Tuesday, 12 June 2012

Killing Monsters and Other Good Deeds

When the sun pulls its last curve around the bend of the earth
And darkness casts its resting spell upon our berth
I push myself into a trance like sleep
And spread myself out like dark matter upon all our works, just to peek

When I hear the agonized sob of a tortured soul nearby
I pull apart a crack in the night, and like ink, I spill myself from the dark and the sky
There is a ridge on my left, perhaps a shadowed bridge
A tree topped valley, or is it a misty bog off the rivers edge

I see her huddled in the back seat of the car
I can tell she is terrified of the night, and its true the dark around her is very bizarre
I felt the ache in  her complete and total solitude, it spreading from her heart and into her gut and her lungs, weakening her fortitude

The car has taken on the feeling of her final tomb
The sounds of the night an awful and threatening gloom
She aware that even crying as deeply, and broken, as she did
Nobody would hear a squeak, nothing spoken, she planned her killing to be well hid

 And when I drifted in closer what I saw was quite a surprise
Squeezed in her vice like hand, a throttled monster just then accepting its own demise
Its true she had a few other demons that had found her and expected to be fed
But now they were fearfully bound to her by her own rules, and soon the warrior would see them all dead

And as the new daystar burns up the horizon
I’m pulled with a start into the crack of the night and out of my vision
But I've seen her smile with the sun bright on her face
The sounds of the night now the music of the bugs and the bees and the birds in this holy place

A black stone, a monsters soul, a trophy in her pocket.
Around her a field of clover, a reminder to look over her shoulder
And as she drove away, she knew a victory this day.