satan’s breath

Satans breath (pt3)Trembling hearts filtering fearful thoughts, return is futile at this mile.

Belching flames from hells on gates, line the paths to the lair.

As each new terror unfolds,my heart, my words grow cold.

Before our entry, I stole away words on hides,

then bound under at the last sentry.

Regardless the race, each trouble we face, must find the futures ear.

Tears filling my eyes, seeking where men have come to end.

Not sure I am the wordsmith of choice, to give this fight my last voice.

As if my thoughts she’d read, she turned, recalling what others had said.

Once before in the legends, a single smith held the beasts attention.

From times passing, this beast of the world is asking, where she got her start.

Where she got her start! In what learning should I find an answer without her part?

Within her question lies the answers so choose, Within her hate lies the truth, 

For you to use, let her not you confuse.

As you gather her thoughts, remember your prayer,

we’ll gather her progeny, and end this war we brought.

As if two great beast battle for my soul, my insides struggle, hot and cold.

Can this be the end of my time, to stand with this beast dealing in rhymes.

One was the word spread from the birth of man.

On lips the chronicles told of histories old and bold.

Within the rhyme I was told is the secret wordsmith hold.

Cadence and reason, pentameter, ah yes meter, chords and chorus are made.

How then can these hold this demon of our dreams, before I’m shredded at the seems.

Gathering my thoughts, a blustery wind in the bowls is caught.

Hotter than any kiln I’ve known, this crucible is melting stone.

A mist, somewhat cooling fills the air, comforting as it covers my hair.

Move foolish smith, for you are caught in her flames mist.

Feet struggle these stones to release, my arms, I cannot feel, move pleas my feet.

Pulled from these evil moorings,laid in a damp pit with others cramped to fit.

Wordsmith you fool, you had better hold a better jewel.

For nearly where you fried, nearly we both died.

Sensation returns to my hands, as my flesh crawls and I try not to bawl with the pain.

As my lips find words I ask, what is this pain that now past.

Satan’s breath from her was cast, dulling your senses, but it doesn’t last.

At the time you seem to be in a dream, every nerve fires in you, making your scream.

She locates the howling victims that remain, and ignites her breath with an angry flame.

Hell’s victims screaming in pain, unable to move thanks to Satan’s rain.

She is so near, I hear her breathing, or is this my own labored attempts at life’s breath.

The effects seem to have past, if we linger here we cannot last.

Good, when I call, stand and run with us to that rock fall.

We must recount our numbers before she takes us deeper and Hell thunders.

Now, came her call, as we broke for the rocks and all.

The mist fell again, stranding a few men, we struggled with these, releasing but three.

In short order came their screams, each echoing off things, impossible escape sound all around.

A cough, then a great earthly shudder, darkness gave way for the others.

The beast I could now see, her scaly tail slashing across her teeth.

Sparks seemed to fly, from each tail slashing creat teeth, flame from her mouth did leap.

Watching in horror, as screaming faces in flames are covered,

Now stand towers of flame, once men who here came.

Praying where I stood, fear beating from my veins, as nearer me she came.

A voice filled my head, you are not like these burning red.

Startled I turned, my companions vane who had not burned.

Ambers words I recalled, that her questions would fall.

I must first pray, seeking Gods guidance for my stay.

You pray, but not afraid I hear, what is it you hold dear?

Tell me your side, give me a reason you should not die.

Praying as I could, trembling legs seemed to sway, as before me the floor gave way.

Grasping as I fell, into a lake of liquid hell.

Your time I’ll come, once you return here above, till then will I feast on your friends in the east.

As I slashed and recovered from this oily mess in which I am covered, 

in my head, she’d left much dread.

Truly she filled me with answers, to questions I’d not pondered, 

my thought I must from her sequester.

For she cried out as she flew after the Warriors above, she’d feast on my friends in east.

Deep in my mind, I’d recalled a rhyme of my time on the coast and a poetry roast.

Not all could she see, but fear blinded she, all she could find are fond memories and times.

So must it be with her, on my return, before I burn, she must die.

W.A.Manning©2017
 

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