I was in the shower the other day, and when I turned the water on as hot a temperature as was possible to bare, the room - which was cold as all hell - suddenly filled with steam, like a fine and silky mist.
From this single moment a poem appeared inside my mind.
I spoke to my friend Sebastian J Deery, who resides in Canada and is fast becoming one of those faces that will skyrocket into the public consciousness, and asked him to narrate it for me - to which he brilliantly said yes.
You can follow him here:
www.sebastianjdeery.com and his face book here: www.facebook.com/sebastianjdeery
The poem and the narrated version are below, i really hope you enjoy.
Huge thanks to Sebastian for his sterling work.
This one is called...
THE WITCH AND THE LAMB.
Around the cold and musty Gyre
The coven met, warmed through by fire
A damp and ugly mist was rolling
And though the hills were dark and swollen
With sounds of beast and burden weary
The witches council came to meet.
“Fair welcome to thee, this black hued e’en”
Words spat through broken teeth
The air was thick with the stench of berry
White milky eyes
And cackle merry
The witches came for mass.
A whip-crack burst of hellish flame
Popped from the cauldron, dark and eerie
The laughter thick, the air was drained
The light from moon above the council
Dipped silently betwixt cloud quite bashful
The witches all hocked wads Of phlegm
Toward the fire, that burst again.
Here, amongst the Witches
We witness evil, hatred, pain
Mottled skin, dried dead tongues,
Hair that tangled and fell out in clumps.
Eyes half blind and hearts black as pitch
The lonely existence of the witch.
The clouds above parted gently,
The most was thick but crept in silence
The moon shone down, bright and hearty,
The valley lit up like a lighthouse beacon
And the animals paused quick and fearful.
Noses raised toward the sky...
Something, somewhere, was about to die.
“A sacrifice! That’s why we gather!”
The lead witch said through torn lipped slather
“A knife drawn sharply cross the throat!”
The council all replied in croak.
“Blood and gristle! Bone and meat,
Cut the throat and let us feast!”
And the lead ghoul raised a hand quite neatly,
One finger raised and pointed weakly,
Upon the crowd, here bayed and gathered...
“You!” She screamed
Stabbing finger more bone than flesh,
upon a witch now drenched moist in gloom.
“You shall be our goat this e’en,
We’ll cut your throat, and dissect your spleen.
We’ll rip apart your heart and liver...
She laughed and drooled...
“You shall be our gift to the moon”
They lay her down on a slab of granite
Tied her hands with the guts of rabbit
Gagged her mouth with cruel dirty rags
And pulled her taut
As hard as they can.
The knife was raised and glinted merrily
“Farewell sister, you feed the earth,
Your fate was set from the moment of birth.
Your blood and bone will feed us well
You’ll save us all, whilst you rest in hell”
The sacrificial lamb to slaughter,
This wanton slattern, this demons daughter,
Begged with her eyes for the gag to be slackened,
The council complied as well as able,
And the lamb said gently through cracked black lips...
“Thank you sisters, live ye long, steal babes from cots and creatures from stables ,
and when the time comes that ye join,
You’ll find seats saved at the devils table”
Thoughts. Fictions. Words.