From the Mist
Page 3
**********
The Sacrifice
There was a-knocking at the gate
As the midnight hour drew near
And Old Ferdey stood in shadow,
Heart a-racing in his fear,
But he called out in a quiver,
"Who's a-knockin' here so late?"
T'was no answer, just the north wind
Rattling at the heavy gate.
With relief he lit the candle
And the flame bit at the night,
In the dim pool he could see her,
Lying deathly pale and white.
"What is this?" He softly whispered,
"T'is an angel fell to earth,
For such beauty never could be
From an earthly mother's birth!"
He rang the town bell loudly
And the people gathered 'round
To gaze upon the creature crushed
Like a moth upon the ground.
They gently touched her fragile wings,
Like cobwebs was her gown.
On her cheeks, like alabaster,
Curled her lashes, long and brown.
Oh, so moved were they by beauty
Such as none had ever seen,
That they wrapped her up in roses
And they covered her with green.
Then they bore her off to Hamrun,
Where they built a fun'ral pyre.
They covered it with scented wood
And the high priest lit the fire.
The city wept and watched in awe,
The flames licked the pre-dawn sky.
How sad it was, each thought forlorn,
That such beauty had to die.
Then from the east a clamor rose,
Raging shouts from uncouth men,
The clang of steel and stamp of steed,
Screams above the battle din.
They turned in terror to see the horde
Come smashing down upon them,
Caught by surprise and weaponless,
The end came so swift and grim.
And when their brutal work was done,
Amid the human carnage,
The victors gathered 'round the pyre
To pay their grateful homage.
Their leader knelt beside the pyre,
'Twas naught but ashes now,
His face was lined with grief and pain,
Sorrow etched upon his brow.
"All hail," he said, "the true victor!"
His voice was cold as ice.
"We never would have cleared the gate
Without her sacrifice."
**********
The Warrior's Plea
Oh, come to me with starlight laden eyes
And touch my heart with misty songs of night,
In twilight's veil we'll meet upon the glen
To speak our vows upon the silver wind
And all it passes on its merry way
Will hear the words we speak, the promise made.
Oh, I will pluck the scarlet flowers 'round,
Like tiny drops of blood upon the ground,
And twine the stems into a fairy band
To place them like a ring upon your hand.
Then gently loose the bands of Irish lace
To let your hair fall softly 'round your face.
Beneath the moon, so pale, I'll touch your skin
And in that moment day and night will end.
Oh, come to me, my love, so true and fair,
Upon the winds that call you like a prayer,
Before the battles take me once again,
Upon this altar let our love begin
That minstrels ages hence shall sing our tale
And Romeo and Juliet shall wail.
**********
The Window of My Heart
Was it really just illusion,
Or the brilliant flash of ice
Whirling wildly in the moonlight
When I gazed into your eyes.
I could swear I saw an iceberg
Sparkling in the frigid dark
And I shivered when your shadow
Passed the window of my heart.
**********
Treblinka
The distant lights cut through the haze,
Like ghosts they danced around the place,
Where death hung thick upon the air
And fragments of the lost lay bare.
What is it that you see and smell
But memories of iron hell -
Where whispers died and screams were real
With shackled wrist and shackled heel -
Where life and death were both the same -
Where mankind withered up in shame
And could not meet the eye of God,
But hid behind a demon's nod.
Who moved along the wire tonight?
What evil in the shadows writhed?
What hatred dwelt within the walls
And walked with death to barren halls
To cleave its victims to the bone -
To rent the souls that lay alone,
Betrayed, forsaken by the world
Into these pits of hell, were hurled.
To take the sleep, the hope, the dreams
And shred them daily seam by seam,
Until humanity had burst
And even heaven seemed accursed.
And when it ended, who had won,
For nothing can undo what's done -
No thread can bind the tatters back,
No piety, nor ash, nor sack
Can heal the wounds, restore the dead,
Erase the nightmares in our heads,
For all humanity has lost.
Oh, what a price! Oh, what a cost!
**********
What is it about Him
Hear the night bird singing
----Its love songs in the dark.
What is it about him,
----His empty, iron heart,
Makes me want to own it,
----To bring him to his knees,
Make him beg forgiveness
----For every breath he breathes,
-------Every breath he breathes.
He stands like a statue,
----As cold as any stone,
It's hard to imagine
----He's a man of flesh and bone.
I want to break his will,
----To feed upon his need,
Just to crawl inside him,
----And make his cold heart bleed,
-------Make his cold heart bleed.
If I thought I could matter,
----I would tear his world apart,
Shake him from his pedestal
----And burn his frozen heart.
Bend him and forsake him,
----Crush him into dust
Twist him and destroy him,
----Then leave him bound and trussed,
-------Leave him bound and trussed.
Hear the night bird singing
----Its love songs in the dark.
What is it about him
----That breaks my empty heart?
Fills it with desire
----For a passion yet unknown,
Locked beneath the armor
----That surrounds his heart of stone,
-------Surrounds his heart of stone.
**********
Bonnie Mutchler has written hundreds of poems since her childhood, several of which have been published in anthologies. She lives in Missouri with her one eyed cat Blinky and loves her Super Poke Pet, Clucky.
You can find Bonnie on:
MySpace: https://www.myspace.com/moonvapors
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/bonnie.mutchler
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