Monday, April 6, 2009

Smithy

We huddle by candlelight
The ceiling is low
My friend reaches for her drum
She drums for energy
She drums for trance
She drums to bid the spirits to come
In this land of the dead
It won't be long
Chants fill my head
And I sway along

But there's a nagging there
In the back of my head
Of the past week's dreams
And a sense of dread

For nights before
My dreams have been
Of this time
This place
This warm candlelight
For nights before
My dreams have been
Of terror
Of menace
And a hasty flight

I think on the positive
Forget all fear
Wait for the spirits to come
I chant and I wait
I sway to the beat
Though my legs go numb

The ceiling is so low
But what do you expect?
It's not a place for the living
It was built for the dead

I hear a woman talking
Look around
Only my friends in the chamber
Making no sound
I listen closer and that's when I know
That the language she's speaking
Is a language of old
I see her then
Auburn hair
Brown clothes
She talks quickly
Then she's gone

I look to my friend
Sitting by the door
I look at his face
But it's no longer his own
It's a face of cruelty
Of menace
Of evil intent
A scar across his cheek
And a hate for women

My friend fights for himself
A battle he'll lose
The man will take over
He'll block the door
Attack us in this crouched hole
Then everythings shifts
We're on their ground now
My friend has no protection
We have to get out

So we bully our friend
The half-possessed one
Out of the chamber
While we still can
Outside is a little better
His head begins to clear
We quickly clean up
Prepare to get away from here

The ancient trees in the dark
They stand in a line
And I think I can see
hooded figures too
Standing there silently
Unmoving shadows
Watching us, watching me
We leave but we're followed
My friend is knocked over
As the man from before
Has another go
I pull him back
And block up the way
Stang-made mark in the dirt

I call for help
To the Gods
My ancesters
My disir
I yell
Into the night sky I let the hammers fly
My energy
My heart
My fury aswell
I'm sick of this bastard that won't let us be
And at some point someone must have heard me
The man came no further
His face was anger
That he couldn't follow us more

And as we drove away in the car
Down that dark road
Some hearts changed
And some hardened even more

2 comments:

herneoakshield said...

Bloody hell... That really sent shivers down my spine.... very strong imagery there.

Elswyth said...

It was actually a really cool night out in Wayland's Smithy!!

Ok, I'm weird - shit-yer-pants fear now equates to 'a cool night out' LOL