The Slitherine Knight

“It was many years ago,”
He whispered back to me
As he grimaced at his hand
And its fist full of jewelry.

“I am scion of the longest line
Of the noblest knights that you could find,
And a bishop I’d known from my youth
Asked if to help I’d be inclined.

We were to exorcise a demon
From the body of a child;
But the thing we thought was weaker
Proved obstinate and wild.

It held my friend’s life in its hand,
Its alone to steal;
And to free an evil from the land,
I chose to make a deal.

It lives safe inside me now:
A beast of avarice and greed.
Good fortune they don’t speak in words;
Though some things are harder not to heed.”

He looked again to his handful,
And I said he was absurd:
Why not simply kill it now?
“A knight never breaks his word.”

Alone in the Night

Thinking myself a thing of the dark
I walk out into the night,
To be alone with a tainted heart —
But no! My company is kept by fright!

In the night I find myself to be
Not a demon, or a ghost;
For such things aren’t frightened by fancy,
And my courage is no thing to boast.

In the dark I’m just a little girl
Awed by what could hide behind that tree;
In the night, I’m a small thing in the world —
And that’s okay with me.

Jacques and Isabelle

Isabelle says hi —
Though, she rarely stays for long;
But a single day or night,
And often she is swiftly gone.

Jacques likes it much better:
The dark places in my mind
Remind him of his own, and so
He tends to stay inside.

Both can rarely stay together
Without some clamor or debate;
They could go on forever
Arguing about my fate.

And oh-so many other things —
But let’s not get into that.
Suffice to say, they come with strings,
But at least they come attached.


Once upon a time, a certain poet realized she talked an awful lot about an “angel” and a “demon” that she would call her own. It suddenly struck her as dreadfully rude to so frequently allude to these individuals, without even knowing their names. So, on a whim, she gave them some: The angel became “Isabelle,” while the demon became “Jacques.” They became the voices for several pseudo-freewritten debates/monologues. They also got backstories. And character arcs. Yeah… whoever this poet is, she might have gone a little overboard. 

Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

I have no dearest friends;
I’ve got no darling love.
Oh I was sent from somewhere,
But I don’t think it was above.

See, I know my only future;
And I am my only seer.
You might tell me I can change me,
But that means nothing here.

All I know is silence;
All I know is endless time.
If the only change is violence,
Then I guess the violence will be mine.

Twin-Souled

I have been a coward;
And at times, almost bold.
I’ve sustained, and I’ve devoured:
The curse of being twin-souled.

I have been a monster;
And then I’ve been a dear —
And then I have lost her,
And become again what I most fear.

One moment I’m an angel;
And the next, the devil’s daughter.
The burden of my twin soul:
To be never what you sought for.

The Pit

Weeks down in the pit:
In a lake of fire that you lit.
But you struggle towards the top;
You don’t dare let yourself quit.

You rise far up above,
To the sun you’ve come to love:
Until blinded, back you drop
To this place you’ve made a home of.

Would-Be Villain

Don’t. Ask.


 

“Ah, the would-be villain!
So glad we meet at last.
I’ve scheduled your execution
For in a week and a half.

I must say, dear Daniel,
I really am surprised.
Next you try to wreck the world,
Perhaps you should be supervised?

Not that this will occur again:
You had your chance and lost it.
Or really, I should rather say
You had your chance — and dropped it!

What a way to fail indeed!
To have such power in your hand,
And fulfill a prophecy
By being clumsiest in the land.

I suppose we should be thanking you
For your pure intent;
If only we had known before
Pure hatred was so potent!”

***

“It is good to finally meet you,”
Said the priest to chained Daniel;
“I have heard of how you freed
The once-demon Meristorol.

Do you know his story?
I find it much like yours.
He was angry, and found himself
Fighting the wrong wars.

His comrades called him “Meri” —
A nickname he despised;
And after one incident,
“Bloody” Meri in their eyes.

“Bloody” or not,
He was still a joke in person’s guise:
Just an angry being
That could offer no surprise.

But he met the priestess Aria,
And anger lost some hold;
For even ‘gainst his wrath,
She was kind and she was bold.

Her temple one day besieged, he found
He couldn’t leave her to death’s hands.
And so he sacrificed himself;
But that is not where his song ends.

For in his sacrifice,
He was victim to imprisonment:
To be freed, it was said,
By one of pure intent.

A crystal ball, the cage
To which he had been sent
Gave for him a chance
To think and to repent.

It’s said that on the day
That crystal breaks and bleeds,
The once-demon goes to heaven,
Well and truly freed.

This is the deed you’ve done;
This the thing you broke:
You’re a hero, my lad,
Even if to them you’re still a joke.”

***

They came for him at last:
Death had come his way.
He hesitated, and asked
After the priest the other day.

The guards looked at each other;
Then at him, and laughed.
“You’ve not had any visitors
For a week and a half.”