Dark Poetry

Dark Poetry

Wizard

By Steven K Mitchell

The Wizard sits
on silken cushions
head full of ruminations

His blackened tongue pays homage
to a dark, cold god
in ceaseless incantations

Standing now
he holds a vial
etched with runes from days gone by

His amber robes reflect the waning sun
a candle flickers
and then dies

From a copper bowl
a greenish flame
casts lurid light among the shadows

The Wizard
stands above it
bearing the ancient vessel

The vial is discarded now
it's contents
burn with the flame

Ceasing his incantations
the Necromancer
utters a name

Again the name is called
then again
and again once more

Each time
more strident
than the time before

A jackal's howl
like a knife
cuts the cool, night-air

And soon
a heavy, relentless tread
is heard upon the stair

Again the Wizard
calls the name
of the power he has dared

Through the scintillate curtain slips
with dead, white eyes and drooling lips
the captain of a long gone ship

Seaweed strands
caress the floor
the air reeks of brine

The pirate
and his cut-throat crew
will kill one last time

The victim's
names are spoken
their whereabouts divined

A ship
grounds the next morning
aboard her townsfolk find

The Wizards dead enemies

Again on silken cushions
the Wizard
ponders mysteries
His victims
of the day before
have become one with history

The night-time air
surrounds the tower
where the Necromancer rests

Below him
in the courtyard
he has unwanted guests

Nightmare shapes
with long dead eyes
no words upon their lips

As the Wizard
sees them
a wail he emits

Gripping his staff for power
the Wizard
makes a stand

He smites
the long dead creatures
with supernatural might

Up the stairs
they come
again and again

Being dead
affords them
battle without fright

Sweat beads on
the Wizards brow
his gray-green eyes shine brightly

His death is standing with him now
it's aspect
frightening

Cold, gray hands
rend his flesh
as passionlessly they kill him

Then turn and stumble
to the sea
to begin the final swim

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