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Spirits of the Past
- Spirits of the Past -
An Alien Ghost Story
Within the rugged cliffs, there lay a hall carved of ivory,
Shaped in form like unto a great skull, grinning eternally.
Within its’ maw, framing a cavern of inestimable dark…
There, lay a forsaken region long abandoned, and stark.
The world on which that terrible crypt sat was long dead,
And now, none set foot within the great skull’s old head.
Three great queens lay in coffins of steel and clear glass,
No decay, had ever, into their perfect bodies, passed…
Until the earth shook and their dead spirits had returned.
In that hour, the coffins shattered and their flesh burned!
The devices installed, to cause them to thus incinerate…
Were by the spirits approach, caused to simply activate.
And those spirits went mad at the loss of their old forms,
Now reduced to ash unfit even for the mouths of worms.
Thinking to protect them, from any robbers of graves…
The ancients did not count on how a spirit thus behaves.
In seeking their perfect, but dead, forms after so long…
The spirits were mistaken, for robbers, sad and wrong!
Now they wail, eternally, and thirst for what was lost…
Having paid, of beauty’s ultimate cost.
And I walked there in times when in pilgrimage I came,
To that places of pure desolation, of ashes, and of pain!
Before the queens perished, and long after they faded…
I walked in their halls and met a people cold and jaded.
They accepted not the joys of living, that I do embrace,
And they would not accept my all offers of divine grace.
Their forlorn spirits, shall never enter the realms of bliss,
Because they were so vain, beauty’s truth they did miss.
Persephone was the noblest, and she endures beyond…
Having come to reign in Hades, and becoming so fond,
Of darkness that no more of light could she understand.
Penelope was the eldest, and her now-abandoned land,
Is but ruins and rubble, beneath the dunes of her planet.
No more is that brightest matron, who once I had met!
Stephanie, was the youngest, and of the three queens…
She alone continues to haunt, the depths of my dreams.
I offer her my hand, and she accepts, so I might lead…
Her errant spirit to salvation, born of her deepest need.
The skull has worn away; only the cave remains, deep,
Where at least two queens’ spirits sleep.
I heard loud winds across those vastly desolate sands,
Of that great world forgotten, yet which I remember…
And, voices were in them, from across distant lands!
Reminding me thus, of the pain deep within the sender.
Those winds blew, hot and mad, the voices so hollow…
No longer bound, with the rotted shells they did wear.
Now where they go, no warmly living soul may follow,
And though dead, still are those ghosts filled with care.
They needed not, to remind me of how they firstly fell,
Emerging, hither, in weirdly wraithlike shapes, black…
For, I was there, when they were cast down into Hell.
I knew even then that they would mayhap come back!
Where once they dwelt in glory, the gods dwelt after,
Having robbed them all of their flesh: with mad device.
Gone, was a lost people’s entire history, and laughter,
Taken by atomic fire, their spirits broken, cold as ice!
Believing they are now all damned, they seek to steal,
The bodies, of those ever living, which they corrupt…
Whilst seeking but to live and to love, and to just feel.
They dine, eternal, but have not fully supped!
Children of that long dead god named Theta,
Their fury is eternal, and can never be abated.
From another age,
Still, do they rage!
An Alien Ghost Story
Within the rugged cliffs, there lay a hall carved of ivory,
Shaped in form like unto a great skull, grinning eternally.
Within its’ maw, framing a cavern of inestimable dark…
There, lay a forsaken region long abandoned, and stark.
The world on which that terrible crypt sat was long dead,
And now, none set foot within the great skull’s old head.
Three great queens lay in coffins of steel and clear glass,
No decay, had ever, into their perfect bodies, passed…
Until the earth shook and their dead spirits had returned.
In that hour, the coffins shattered and their flesh burned!
The devices installed, to cause them to thus incinerate…
Were by the spirits approach, caused to simply activate.
And those spirits went mad at the loss of their old forms,
Now reduced to ash unfit even for the mouths of worms.
Thinking to protect them, from any robbers of graves…
The ancients did not count on how a spirit thus behaves.
In seeking their perfect, but dead, forms after so long…
The spirits were mistaken, for robbers, sad and wrong!
Now they wail, eternally, and thirst for what was lost…
Having paid, of beauty’s ultimate cost.
And I walked there in times when in pilgrimage I came,
To that places of pure desolation, of ashes, and of pain!
Before the queens perished, and long after they faded…
I walked in their halls and met a people cold and jaded.
They accepted not the joys of living, that I do embrace,
And they would not accept my all offers of divine grace.
Their forlorn spirits, shall never enter the realms of bliss,
Because they were so vain, beauty’s truth they did miss.
Persephone was the noblest, and she endures beyond…
Having come to reign in Hades, and becoming so fond,
Of darkness that no more of light could she understand.
Penelope was the eldest, and her now-abandoned land,
Is but ruins and rubble, beneath the dunes of her planet.
No more is that brightest matron, who once I had met!
Stephanie, was the youngest, and of the three queens…
She alone continues to haunt, the depths of my dreams.
I offer her my hand, and she accepts, so I might lead…
Her errant spirit to salvation, born of her deepest need.
The skull has worn away; only the cave remains, deep,
Where at least two queens’ spirits sleep.
I heard loud winds across those vastly desolate sands,
Of that great world forgotten, yet which I remember…
And, voices were in them, from across distant lands!
Reminding me thus, of the pain deep within the sender.
Those winds blew, hot and mad, the voices so hollow…
No longer bound, with the rotted shells they did wear.
Now where they go, no warmly living soul may follow,
And though dead, still are those ghosts filled with care.
They needed not, to remind me of how they firstly fell,
Emerging, hither, in weirdly wraithlike shapes, black…
For, I was there, when they were cast down into Hell.
I knew even then that they would mayhap come back!
Where once they dwelt in glory, the gods dwelt after,
Having robbed them all of their flesh: with mad device.
Gone, was a lost people’s entire history, and laughter,
Taken by atomic fire, their spirits broken, cold as ice!
Believing they are now all damned, they seek to steal,
The bodies, of those ever living, which they corrupt…
Whilst seeking but to live and to love, and to just feel.
They dine, eternal, but have not fully supped!
Children of that long dead god named Theta,
Their fury is eternal, and can never be abated.
From another age,
Still, do they rage!
Published 29th Jul 2012
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