Late at night the morbid thoughts creep upon me. I listen to a slow metal dirge that recalls the fetid summer. But now it is winter, and the iron cold sweeps down with blades of icicle-sharp. I hear the whisper of dead leaves stroking my windows; I hear the brush of the oak’s barren limbs upon my roof.
Outside in the night, I know the black horse rushes past on the Wild Hunt. And I know who rides upon him. I see his limbs, like sabers. I feel his eyes from the dark upon my face. They are curved like the stings of scorpions.
I wonder if I should put on my coat of silver. I wonder if I should set my mouth for war. The hunter and his wolves beckon, and in days past I would have joined his gathering and ridden fast to the vicious skirl of the horns.
But in those days my soul was quick; my youth was armor. Tonight, I fear, my weakness would make me prey.
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Forget the armor, load the shotgun. :)
ReplyDeleteDamn, you're good.
ReplyDeleteHaunting piece.
ReplyDeleteBernardl, it'd have to be the 357. But I'm sure that would work better.
ReplyDeletePaul, thanks. Beer'll do that for you.
David, thanks, man. I appreciate it.
Golden Eagle, glad you enjoyed.
Poetic. Makes me think in a warrior looking a last battle to die sword in hand.
ReplyDeleteNice prose.
ReplyDeleteYou've got a gift, man. A real gift... You're facility with imagery is amazing. :)
ReplyDeleteVery evocative!
ReplyDeleteDeka, I think that's kind of how I was feeling at the moment.
ReplyDeleteSidney, I appreciate that.
Steve Malley, I think this is the best thing I've done in a while.
Pattinase, that's kind of you.
Great wordsmithing here. Your ability to put me in a time and place and in a few words is astounding.
ReplyDeleteTravis Erwin, I'm glad it worked for you.
ReplyDeleteGave me the urge to lock and load, Charles.
ReplyDeleteNow is the winter of our discontent...
ReplyDeleteRick, I get that urge myself sometimes late at night when I look out my window and see only the flat black of some Twilight zone landscape where anything could happen.
ReplyDeleteRon, indeed so, and I don't have it nearly as bad as many folks do.
i know that creaking feeling all to well, charles :O lol
ReplyDeleteI love it, your prose makes me feel we are kindred spirits.
ReplyDelete"ridden fast to the vicious skirl of the horns"
ReplyDeleteI like.
Laughingwolf, ain't it tough getting old, man?
ReplyDeleteDavid, seems so from the kinds of things we like.
M. M. Fahren, thanks. glad you enjoyed.
Omigosh, that made me want to read more!
ReplyDeleteI like that. It has the rhythm of poetry.
ReplyDeleteJo, cool. Glad to hear it.
ReplyDeleteTravis Cody, I guess I'd categorize it as prose poetry.
Incredibly epic and poetic... I loved it.
ReplyDeleteGeez and all i heard last night in the chill and cold was some asshole popping off more than 20 rounds at someone. It may have been 21 because after the first bambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambam
ReplyDeleteThere was a pause like they walked up to whatever was being shot at and they delivered one more kill shot just for certainties sake.
I'd rather have my armor of indifference than the old protection of youth.
I really like that too. I also used to wear my youth like armor and I didn't even realize it. And I could use a coat of silver, but only if it was insulated.
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ReplyDeleteNothing grabs a musician's attention faster than the phrase "slow metal dirge." Very evocative.
ReplyDeleteHarry, thanks, I'm actually kind of fond of this one.
ReplyDeleteMark, the sound of gunfire tends to center one's thoughts on the real world. I didn't have that stimulus.
Mary Witzl, maybe a coat of many colors. :)
X-Dell, some good stuff from a band called "A Pale Horse Called Death."
kinda like injun underwear... sneak up onya :O lol
ReplyDeleteDeft, poetic and -- cool --
ReplyDeleteLaughingwolf, yeah, just so.
ReplyDeleteErik, thankee, man.
Certainly puts me into a Swords and Sorcery mode.
ReplyDeleteI want to get on that horse and slay a Snee! :)
"I wonder if I should set my mouth for war." That's wonderful.
ReplyDeleteIvan, or a banth, or a sleen?
ReplyDeleteJennifer, thankee.
Silly, that's what happens when you wake up in the middle of the night and peak out the castle window instead of staying in bed where its warm and cozy. I bet your wife would say the same thing. ;-) This writing voice is brilliant and vivid. Gird up and go to the "vicious skirt of the horns"!
ReplyDeleteYou're awesome, baby...
ReplyDeleteJodi, sometimes you've gotta peak out the window, despite the red eyes that might be looking in at you as well.
ReplyDeleteLana, you are sweet.
Charles,
ReplyDeleteVery nice! Good job!
Scott, thanks, man.
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