Without a Title
folder
Poetry › Free Verse
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
558
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Poetry › Free Verse
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
558
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of poetry. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Part 2 : Draft 1
Without a Title
Part 2 : Draft 1
Jonathan Sheahan
here is the second part to my lovers greatest work of art
A million tiny pricks of pain
falling like the evening rain
few survived the final day
when the world was blown away
No chorus came to sing on high
the faithful were the first to die
this was no godly trial or test
no daemon caused this great unrest
Nothing from the loss was gained
the first to die were those who reigned
from the ashes new life spawned
and this would be her chosen dawn
A child lost in untamed wastes
no one knew the trials she faced
she had no father to hunt for food
no one to gather or chop wood
She had no mother to show the way
no guidance on her bleeding day
she had no place to call her home
many years she wandered alone
A million tiny pricks of pain
falling like the evening rain
taking parents from a child
leaving her to roam the wild
She had what some would call a gift
to open up an ethereal rift
and call on forces from the past
this was how she had survived the blast
her parents had taught her the way
soon before the awful day
when the lives where claimed by fire
to save their child their one desire
For sixteen years lost and alone
but in this time her skills would hone
in the wild she feared no fight
few would stand up to her might
But by a band of thieves she was found
while sleeping they had gaged and bound
taking her quite far away
to a place she wished not stay
A den of thieves that rose from ruin
all about lay bodies strewn
hers would not be added to the pile
her blood this place would not defile
The leader of this pack of brigands
had her put upon her knees and hands
told he her life was at stake
they knew not their fatal mistake
Slowly she was made to rise
her flesh would feed hungry mens eyes
her bare tan skin would be all they saw
before she sent them into the maw
Two would come at her with blade
a poor choice they had made
she spun and with hands still bound
called fourth the fire in the ground
As the rest saw this unclad lass
baring both her breasts and ass
cutting down their friends without harm
gave them a great sense of alarm
They fled their unholy domicile
to the nearby village ile
and spread the tale of daemon girl
whose powers could the world unfurl
All the wile the leader would remain
watching as the others are slain
the nude beauty that could cause this harm
he stood no hope so he bore no arm
Facing her in solemn defeat
kneeling at her naked feet
pleading that he stay alive
and at the moment he died
From the bounty she found clothes
but only to replace those
that were torn from herself
anything else was left on shelf
She let the place as she came
fearing she would bare the blame
of the two score men that died
from the power she supplied
A million tiny pricks of pain
falling like the evening rain
a orphan child forced to kill
and without home she wanders still
For seven days she found little food
her situation was not good
just as she could not fight the ground
she knew at last what she had found
The ruins of a city past
a city from before the blast
though walls had all been broken down
it still supported a busy town
Knowing she had nothing to trade
a meal for her would not be made
knowing that she must find work
before a meal would grace her fork
She overhead the mayor of this town
calling all to help bring down
a cult that lived upon the ridge
that guarded a sacred bridge
The bridge that lead to the east
made from bone of ancient beast
fragile relic from before the day
when the world was blown away
The cult had cut off the towns supplies
and scared off townsmen with their lies
but no man would besiege their keep
as children from hunger would weep
She know that without this task complete
there would be nothing for her to eat
so to the mayor her service she pledged
and up the path to the keep she trudged
The keep was carved from stones of red
and reeked of things long ago dead
the ancient arch that was the door
was covered in marking from ceiling to floor
Inside the light was dim at best
the only sound her heart withing her chest
and gentle humming from within
drawing her closer into the din
A circle of candles around rings of red
sat eight women with no eyes in their head
the pale sink was covered with ritual brands
a faint glow flowing from each hand
She knew the power each controlled
but her duty she knew she must uphold
she saw what should never be seen
as all of the candle flames turned green
A great force that should never live
and each of these women their soul did give
to give it great power an unmatched force
her only hope a swift divorce
The unholy marriage of eight to one
forged in a place unseen by the sun
she called forth the greatest power she could
and recoiled when the force they withstood
As flesh was torn from pale face and back
her vision was slowly fading to black
the sisters were calling their master to aid
with all her might his summoning she forbade
And just before the world turned to black
she saw the sisters fall to her attack
that evil was trapped and locked once again
she had nothing left to do but suffer the pain
A million tiny pricks of pain
falling like the evening rain
survivors fight to stay alive
‘til their final destiny arrives
poem not complete.
Part 2 : Draft 1
Jonathan Sheahan
here is the second part to my lovers greatest work of art
A million tiny pricks of pain
falling like the evening rain
few survived the final day
when the world was blown away
No chorus came to sing on high
the faithful were the first to die
this was no godly trial or test
no daemon caused this great unrest
Nothing from the loss was gained
the first to die were those who reigned
from the ashes new life spawned
and this would be her chosen dawn
A child lost in untamed wastes
no one knew the trials she faced
she had no father to hunt for food
no one to gather or chop wood
She had no mother to show the way
no guidance on her bleeding day
she had no place to call her home
many years she wandered alone
A million tiny pricks of pain
falling like the evening rain
taking parents from a child
leaving her to roam the wild
She had what some would call a gift
to open up an ethereal rift
and call on forces from the past
this was how she had survived the blast
her parents had taught her the way
soon before the awful day
when the lives where claimed by fire
to save their child their one desire
For sixteen years lost and alone
but in this time her skills would hone
in the wild she feared no fight
few would stand up to her might
But by a band of thieves she was found
while sleeping they had gaged and bound
taking her quite far away
to a place she wished not stay
A den of thieves that rose from ruin
all about lay bodies strewn
hers would not be added to the pile
her blood this place would not defile
The leader of this pack of brigands
had her put upon her knees and hands
told he her life was at stake
they knew not their fatal mistake
Slowly she was made to rise
her flesh would feed hungry mens eyes
her bare tan skin would be all they saw
before she sent them into the maw
Two would come at her with blade
a poor choice they had made
she spun and with hands still bound
called fourth the fire in the ground
As the rest saw this unclad lass
baring both her breasts and ass
cutting down their friends without harm
gave them a great sense of alarm
They fled their unholy domicile
to the nearby village ile
and spread the tale of daemon girl
whose powers could the world unfurl
All the wile the leader would remain
watching as the others are slain
the nude beauty that could cause this harm
he stood no hope so he bore no arm
Facing her in solemn defeat
kneeling at her naked feet
pleading that he stay alive
and at the moment he died
From the bounty she found clothes
but only to replace those
that were torn from herself
anything else was left on shelf
She let the place as she came
fearing she would bare the blame
of the two score men that died
from the power she supplied
A million tiny pricks of pain
falling like the evening rain
a orphan child forced to kill
and without home she wanders still
For seven days she found little food
her situation was not good
just as she could not fight the ground
she knew at last what she had found
The ruins of a city past
a city from before the blast
though walls had all been broken down
it still supported a busy town
Knowing she had nothing to trade
a meal for her would not be made
knowing that she must find work
before a meal would grace her fork
She overhead the mayor of this town
calling all to help bring down
a cult that lived upon the ridge
that guarded a sacred bridge
The bridge that lead to the east
made from bone of ancient beast
fragile relic from before the day
when the world was blown away
The cult had cut off the towns supplies
and scared off townsmen with their lies
but no man would besiege their keep
as children from hunger would weep
She know that without this task complete
there would be nothing for her to eat
so to the mayor her service she pledged
and up the path to the keep she trudged
The keep was carved from stones of red
and reeked of things long ago dead
the ancient arch that was the door
was covered in marking from ceiling to floor
Inside the light was dim at best
the only sound her heart withing her chest
and gentle humming from within
drawing her closer into the din
A circle of candles around rings of red
sat eight women with no eyes in their head
the pale sink was covered with ritual brands
a faint glow flowing from each hand
She knew the power each controlled
but her duty she knew she must uphold
she saw what should never be seen
as all of the candle flames turned green
A great force that should never live
and each of these women their soul did give
to give it great power an unmatched force
her only hope a swift divorce
The unholy marriage of eight to one
forged in a place unseen by the sun
she called forth the greatest power she could
and recoiled when the force they withstood
As flesh was torn from pale face and back
her vision was slowly fading to black
the sisters were calling their master to aid
with all her might his summoning she forbade
And just before the world turned to black
she saw the sisters fall to her attack
that evil was trapped and locked once again
she had nothing left to do but suffer the pain
A million tiny pricks of pain
falling like the evening rain
survivors fight to stay alive
‘til their final destiny arrives
poem not complete.