The Village!

He had never seen that village before! The Foureyed Poet.

The Foureyed Poet

Riding on the country road no sounds could be heard

fresh air and a gentle wind blew I was in repose

for years I had taken this route nothing else stirred

yet from within some ancient memory then arose

several miles onward my horse trotted proud and tall

fear tugged at my thoughts as we slowed to a crawl!

Mutual instincts honed at each sight sound and smell

my horse came to a shuddering halt without warning

through the thick mist there was the clanging of a bell

upon a village dark and oppressive as if in mourning

appeared right before my shocked disbelieving eyes

with the sounds of terrified inhuman cries!

What was this joyless village I had not seen before

with no way to avoid or escape this phantom place

with great difficulty I managed to move a little more

inside I knew there was no choice the evil had to face

driven…

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Published in: on 03/03/2015 at 21:45  Leave a Comment  

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