Hey! EmceeSquare here.
I just want to thank you guys for putting up with my tardiness regarding "Of Candles, Books, And Bells." I assure you I'm working hard on Chapter 3 and it's going to be much longer than the last two, so watch out!
In the meantime, I want to share with y'all this poem that I made for my English class. This is all original stuff, by the way – my words from my mind. I used the "Solomon Kane" character from Robert E. Howard as an influence. Anyway, without further ado, I present to you….. the Treacher.
In the darkness of one autumn night, in the cover of a birch,
Oleander James was keeping watch from his clandestine perch.
His resolve never wavered; his mind was set on his prey,
Which was away now on assignment, but could return on any day.
The aforementioned soul whose fate was written in the stars
committed treacheries against the canton and the bars.
Now, Oleander James, with his eyes blazing bright,
Was waiting for this man in the black and noiseless night.
Suddenly, he heard the sound of clattering on the stones.
The air at once did howl with the most ominous of tones.
A carriage then appeared, pulled by horses brown as earth
And out stepped the treacher onto the soil of his birth.
Oleander's mind did scream; his flesh and bones did crawl.
For here he stood: the man whose life he'd end once and for all.
He wore a powdered wig, boots and stockings caked in mud,
And a silken coat and cravat with the hue of fresh-drawn blood.
The treacher looked around, calm but senses on alert
Every stimulus told him that he'd fall down dead in the dirt
But sensing no apparent trouble, he strolled to his chateau.
And Mr. James jumped down to collect the debt that man did owe.
He pried the oak-door's lock with ease, and it opened without strife.
The chateau was devoid, it seemed, of any sign of life.
He heard a thump upstairs just then; the heavy fall of feet.
Oleander then climbed the antiquated steps without a creak.
He found the man tucked deep inside an old, disheveled bed.
He silently pulled back the covers to reveal his head.
The treacher then awoke, opened up his sleepy eyes,
And gazed up at the smiling harbinger of his demise.
At that same moment, Mr. James' eyes lit up with glee.
"Now I stand face to face with the man who molded me!"
For he remembered seeing, all those countless moons ago,
The same face light up as he watched his parents' lifeblood flow.
The man uttered a scream not unlike those made by the damned.
His eyes then flitted to the dagger clasped in his butcher's hand.
With a twinkle in his eye, Mr. James let fall the blade,
And listened as he heard the treacher's terrified cries fade.
