Young Writers Society

Goodnight My Dear; Goodnight

Your waking next to me, the wicked wink of darkness reflected upon your eyes,

And our worries ensconced in the gloomy twilight escape you as you carefully sigh

We clutch evermore-so closer, trying to make the terrors of the night forgotten,

The synchronicity of our hearts ablaze against a backdrop of sable wool and stygian cotton

But the Moon marshalls all her host, about her the moonlit hordes mount, sharpen, and whorl,

And from the keep a great horn bellows, the awesome banners of night unfurled

Unleashing upon these hills the Coonhounds and Labradors

***

Please now, take my hand, and don't once let's go,

Lest we be lost within this rayless realm where not even a cat's green eyes may glow

I'll be brave for you and you for I, from our tracks we mustn't be detrained,

Lest we die wet and naked in the merciless warm October rains,

Let us lock our eyes together, and endebted to our faith in each other we'll survive,

Lest we catch a fleeting glimpse and be on our way, then will never leave here alive

And only after may we hug when we've crossed the threshold of lethality's door

***

The morning star has fallen, with the brilliance of dawn a limping sun drives a spear through a serpents head,

And perhaps for you I'll learn to braid, or learn to be a seamster and make a dress of white and golden thread

A harmonious harper may harp happily,

And a poet may ponder his peerless rhyme most sappily

Handsome devils may sing, and Esquires may pop and ring,

But I'll never express just how much I mean with these myrtles bright, with this emerald ring

To rival every legend and legacy of our land our relationship will be bedighted

***

There is no greater happiness, than the happiness that shines in your eyes,

No great sound, than when at the nightfall I hear your contented sigh

Forever yours, and you my only begotten,

Cheshishing the moments when we lay on our bed of cotton

If one day; I should be spirited away, you will doubtlessly discover,

That you will remain as a blessing upon this Earth, once and always my lover

Goodnight My dear; goodnight

***

…And The Evil Reigns

Cutting the impermeable darkness my scarlet eyes of evil shine,

My overwrought coffin opens effortless by my will and my will alone

As I levitate upright the night itself gives obeisance to me, this undead forest serenades me with loathly moans,

And my court assembles, every stag and raven, every bloodsucking fiend, they belong to me; yes they are mine

But alas! Why was I awoken? By what fate or divinity was my rising devined?

Through charcoal brushstrokes upon a sooty canvas, I travel to make the mysterious matter known

This onyx mirror ever faithful, so to the pale pearl do I turn which blazes in night enthroned,

My mirror of moonlight so I may preen my overcoat, and stylized my cravat in line,

***

Can one immortal be brought to speechlessness? Can the undead be blanched white with deathly hues?

The mountain pass of Slava Cercheză is watered with the blood of my covenant,

A littered field of the impaled, from anuses to their mouths through

Those tortured, those sodomized with the cross, a defilement of the Lord's fundaments

As God isn't within my soundless black heart, no longer is He with His Church too,

My steel wings wrawl and writhe, my shrieks and cries a oracle of my night ultimate

***

These four canines, a molten red odontitis, such is my grief, such is my pain,

The deer and the wolves flee to lands yonder, before I the lone ember gliding in the night

Let every dungeon be emptied, let the crags of Hell be purged, I charge all yee of the ghoulish might

Come forth, come forth my black stallion; a ruby sword in one hand and in the other sacerdotal-skin reins,

And now the evil shall reign,

I'm in rapture, a shameless killer gallivanting forth, heedless to those of helpless plight

We torture, we murder, we maim, regardless to all we add to the tally of those we smite,

To Tulcea to Constanța, from the Danube to the Black Sea, upon this Earth is Dobrogea a bloodstain, 

***

Never has anyplace been awash so red,

Never has anywhere been enriched with rubies as Dobrogea as frozen tears fall from my eyes,

And never has so much taboo been enacted, never have been strewn so many dead,

I collapse upon Lake Razim, the east explodes illuminating my great lie

This watery sheet is blazing brilliantly, so lustrous and polished, thus to my fate I'm wed

I'm burning, I'm ablaze, I'm immolating, and soon summarily…I died

***

The Hero And The Hound

There is a man, and he's ruddy and brash as sin,

Baseborn in skill, greathearted in valor, a fool alive for the glories, the next tourney win

There was a hound, wirey, peppered, and proud,

A starving wolfhound who vowed to himself to always remain unconquered and unbowed

***

One day the crescent moon split open the belly of the eventide breadth, leaving him undraped and frightened,

Making a mockery of his manhood, his virility decomposing and overripened

But a famished dog would be his friend, the only entity with which to fellowship reap,

His only friend hungrier than the belly of death, the only fire to keep him warm in restless sleep

***

One night a comet lazered downward, lambent with the stars with icy fire and frozen frost,

And from that great crater arose golden beasts and shimmering yellow grasses and moss

A dozen legions marched forth to make battle, and sixty six thousand men lied strewn about the savanna sea,

In the unmoving wake of a fourteen thousand foot golden aspen tree

***

As the frenzied kiss of madness spreads throughout the kingdoms and the lands,

Those now locked in prayer wonder who shall deliver them from this hellish heavenly hand

A man torn from the pinnacle of all worldly laurels, without a country, without a hope,

And his only compatriot some sick dog some say is a demon, and others a lycanthrope

***

He returns from desolation, where the champions and prophets are made,

And he's reclad in his weathered armor, his hair crowned with the braid of a milkmaid

His hound is ready, and he recalls his former strength as he takes his polehammer in hand,

Alone now they venture quietly into the molten golden wilderness, two final believers in the last command

***

What is the proverb? That the nightfall gives way to the splendor of dayspring?

That is a lie, all is gold, everything perverted into fabulously beautiful things

He grasps hold unto the next branch, as the hound is incited to advise they soar,

His skin swarthy and blistered, blood and sweat pouring from every orifice, wound, and pore

***

Eyes now sprout within his skull, he begins to dismiss the bounds of eternity,

As he is inseminated with the unutterable celestial poetry

What is that thing… that thing… the stillborn afterbirth of a dead star,

Something beautiful and perfect, leaving all betided to it unknowably marred

***

The hero falters, brought to his knees as perfection gives his mind way to ache,

But the hound wouldn't leave this life with the defence of his friend unslaked

The hound intercepts the final blow, leaving his personhood unnameable and defamed,

But the hero's eyes are raging with a sulfurous and victorious fame

***

He closes his eyes and he makes a declaratory outcry,

"You may be Abomination! But for this trespass by my hands you'll die!"

The light from our livegiving star shines in the hammer, much to an awesome terror's dread,

As he screams out the hound's name as he crushes in perfection's comely head

***

The Princess of the Night retires her moonlit scimitar and asks; "Will thoust be my Lord Eternal? My Consort Fair?"

"Take my hands and let us be gone from this place. Let thou be made legend if ye dare."

And thusly the once home of heroes is cleansed as liberty is flashing into the nations,

And a stray wolfhound fulfilled the prophecy of man's best friend's ideation

***