BEYOND THE REALMS OF SALVATION

Here in the US children seems to vanish without a trace every day. They are abducted from playgrounds, the streets they live on and some are even plucked from the safety of their own homes. Who takes them, where do they go and what happens to them ? Sadly in most cases the outcome is not a happy one. This poem was inspired by such a case. I never really know where a particular story is going to lead me and this one took me into a rather grusome territory. It's a mixture of horror, Brothers Grimm and current events. Probably one of the most graphic poems I've written so if that upsets anyone I suggest you skip it.


In the bleak forest there's a treacherous calm
where the wind dear not rustle the leaves
Darkness commence at the foot of the night
and the day always struggle to breathe

Just above ground there's a milky white mist
it slithers and curls 'round the trees
Trembling branches that claws at the moon
confined to a place without peace

There's a path up ahead that leads out of this world
to the house of the hollow stone
This windowless lair has a grim stench of fear
and perched atop the river of bones

Shadows corrode in his ghastly abode
and whispers so faint disappears
He often departs to seek out young hearts
abduct those who sleep unawere

In nocturnal forays he whisks them away
sweet children so safe in their domain
No single word from his breath ever heard
he threads lightly to harvest his claim

Consuming their eyes stifleing their cries
gazing at sights through many past lives
With a wicked curved blade their skin he then flays
devours the essence from which he thrives

Slaking their thirst biting veins til they burst
spraying tiny droplets on his skin
Guilt is a haze, a smirk on his face
as he dabs at the blood on his chin

He dines on the brains of the innocence slain
compelled by the vapours of death
Absorbing pure souls to become briefly whole
unburdened by remorse or regrets

The vestige of wraiths thus gone without a trace
from the vessels of splendored light
His hunger recedes as sustenance feeds
on childrens unfortunate blight

Again tomorrow he'll wreak another batch of sorrow
douse the sentiments of joy with unforgiving pain
A self imposed affliction fuels his own addiction
a pestilence of purpose a plague of disdain