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Carnival of Death
- Carnival of Death -
A Tale of the Macabre
The carnival came, one day, to a small New England town…
Amidst the blaring of bands and the smiles of many a clown!
Children flocked to see the animals in their countless cages,
Never mindful of their ferocity and propensity for mad rages.
All seemed so bright, and filled with innocent childhood joys,
Yet that is sometimes the mask that blackest evil oft employs.
I do not know why I went to the carnival, but even so I did…
And I passed the tents and pavilions, where all the actors hid,
For circus people are actors and at the carnival they perform.
Something strange I sensed there, like a calm before a storm!
As I approached the pavilion of the fortune teller who waited,
For passers-by to come: and have their curiosity by her sated.
She was young and beautiful, but her skin was cold and pale,
And her eyes seemed vacant, when she so cast aside her veil.
That black transparent fabric, which to the ground she cast…
The better to see me: and so tell of the future, or distant past.
Could she see into other lives, and know before one’s birth…
Whether they were good or evil, and thus, their souls’ worth?
Black pantaloons and blouse she wore, in gypsy fashion well,
Generous were her hips, and oh how her bosom could swell!
So very beautiful was she, her black eyes gleaming like onyx,
In the candle-lit pavilion: where she enacted her magic tricks.
Her hair was raven darkness, curly and cascading ever down,
All the way to her feet, thus descended that soft ebon crown!
I waited for her to speak to me, but not one thing did she say,
Her eyes bore deep into my soul, and there her spirit did play.
What found she there I could not imagine, but she did smile…
Beckoning me, to sit next to her, and so that I did for a while.
A single cushioned couch we shared, before a wooden table,
Upon which sat a crystal ball like something out of old fable…
And into its’ depths the gypsy gazed, appearing mesmerized.
After some time, she turned to look upon me most surprised!
She seized my face with both her hands, her fingernails claws,
Kissing me savagely, in a manner become feral without pause.
Her teeth were now fangs, and blood she drew from my lip…
Yet I was captivated and I let my hands caress her curvy hip.
What she did see that made her go mad, I never would learn.
She forced her inhuman passions on me; in them I did burn…
I was a grown woman, and I should have been able to resist.
But, some dark part of me wanted her, basking in dark bliss!
How strange, that no once chanced by her colorful pavilion…
Only we were there, as I was trapped in the arms of a villain,
Ensnared by her will, which pinioned me before her pleasure.
I was at the mercy of a vampire; my blood was her treasure,
And how her sharp fangs drank deep of my sanguine nectar!
She partook of me in scarlet joy as well as Sapphic splendor.
Just when I imagined my pain was approaching high ecstasy,
Her face became a skull and I screamed at this sight so ugly!
No mere vampire was she, but death incarnate, here to hunt.
I was at her mercy now, and there was no place I could run!
My eyes shut instinctively, and I felt her cold breath panting…
Like frost upon my skin, winter’s touch, chill and demanding.
Goosebumps formed, on my neck, and I knew I would die…
In the arms of the grimmest lover, there my corpse would lie.
Oh cruel mistress Death, I only wished the carnival to savor!
To recapture childhood joys, with a heart that cannot waver.
But I realized I could never go back, for childhood did pass,
And I should never have come here, unto the darksome lass.
But here I was, and here I would end, my eyes shutting tight,
Soon to close forever as I was born away by winged Night!
I opened my eyes bravely, expecting to see the skeletal face,
But all I saw was a gypsy girl, a fortuneteller of skillful grace.
She was blushing after our tryst, and told me I should be off,
And then she turned into a raven and flew to some other loft.
In the crystal ball that remained, the image of skull did linger,
So I smashed that object, before the sight got any stranger…
I walked away from the pavilion, seeking to put it far behind.
When suddenly I saw the raven and heard within my mind…
The laughter of a woman, the personification of doom entire,
Who stalked me across the carnival with eyes like black fire!
Sometimes I saw the pale gypsy lady waiting in the shadows,
So I put the carnival behind me, fleeing across the meadows.
Pursued, by the raven that was no bird, but something awful,
I made my way from those outskirts back to town so lawful…
So serene in its’ simplicity of the rush and whirl of life around!
Childhood was over and I now needed new joys to be found.
The past was dead, and I knew that; I had learned my lesson,
Even as I made my way home, which to my heart did beckon.
When you tryst with mistress Death, you come to appreciate,
Living life ever fuller in the here and now, before it is too late!
Sometimes, I spy a raven, and I wonder if it she is watching…
But of course Death always is, for her eyes are on everything.
Worry not if she will find you, for in due time she always will,
And in the end, one final tryst will take place, before all is still.
A Tale of the Macabre
The carnival came, one day, to a small New England town…
Amidst the blaring of bands and the smiles of many a clown!
Children flocked to see the animals in their countless cages,
Never mindful of their ferocity and propensity for mad rages.
All seemed so bright, and filled with innocent childhood joys,
Yet that is sometimes the mask that blackest evil oft employs.
I do not know why I went to the carnival, but even so I did…
And I passed the tents and pavilions, where all the actors hid,
For circus people are actors and at the carnival they perform.
Something strange I sensed there, like a calm before a storm!
As I approached the pavilion of the fortune teller who waited,
For passers-by to come: and have their curiosity by her sated.
She was young and beautiful, but her skin was cold and pale,
And her eyes seemed vacant, when she so cast aside her veil.
That black transparent fabric, which to the ground she cast…
The better to see me: and so tell of the future, or distant past.
Could she see into other lives, and know before one’s birth…
Whether they were good or evil, and thus, their souls’ worth?
Black pantaloons and blouse she wore, in gypsy fashion well,
Generous were her hips, and oh how her bosom could swell!
So very beautiful was she, her black eyes gleaming like onyx,
In the candle-lit pavilion: where she enacted her magic tricks.
Her hair was raven darkness, curly and cascading ever down,
All the way to her feet, thus descended that soft ebon crown!
I waited for her to speak to me, but not one thing did she say,
Her eyes bore deep into my soul, and there her spirit did play.
What found she there I could not imagine, but she did smile…
Beckoning me, to sit next to her, and so that I did for a while.
A single cushioned couch we shared, before a wooden table,
Upon which sat a crystal ball like something out of old fable…
And into its’ depths the gypsy gazed, appearing mesmerized.
After some time, she turned to look upon me most surprised!
She seized my face with both her hands, her fingernails claws,
Kissing me savagely, in a manner become feral without pause.
Her teeth were now fangs, and blood she drew from my lip…
Yet I was captivated and I let my hands caress her curvy hip.
What she did see that made her go mad, I never would learn.
She forced her inhuman passions on me; in them I did burn…
I was a grown woman, and I should have been able to resist.
But, some dark part of me wanted her, basking in dark bliss!
How strange, that no once chanced by her colorful pavilion…
Only we were there, as I was trapped in the arms of a villain,
Ensnared by her will, which pinioned me before her pleasure.
I was at the mercy of a vampire; my blood was her treasure,
And how her sharp fangs drank deep of my sanguine nectar!
She partook of me in scarlet joy as well as Sapphic splendor.
Just when I imagined my pain was approaching high ecstasy,
Her face became a skull and I screamed at this sight so ugly!
No mere vampire was she, but death incarnate, here to hunt.
I was at her mercy now, and there was no place I could run!
My eyes shut instinctively, and I felt her cold breath panting…
Like frost upon my skin, winter’s touch, chill and demanding.
Goosebumps formed, on my neck, and I knew I would die…
In the arms of the grimmest lover, there my corpse would lie.
Oh cruel mistress Death, I only wished the carnival to savor!
To recapture childhood joys, with a heart that cannot waver.
But I realized I could never go back, for childhood did pass,
And I should never have come here, unto the darksome lass.
But here I was, and here I would end, my eyes shutting tight,
Soon to close forever as I was born away by winged Night!
I opened my eyes bravely, expecting to see the skeletal face,
But all I saw was a gypsy girl, a fortuneteller of skillful grace.
She was blushing after our tryst, and told me I should be off,
And then she turned into a raven and flew to some other loft.
In the crystal ball that remained, the image of skull did linger,
So I smashed that object, before the sight got any stranger…
I walked away from the pavilion, seeking to put it far behind.
When suddenly I saw the raven and heard within my mind…
The laughter of a woman, the personification of doom entire,
Who stalked me across the carnival with eyes like black fire!
Sometimes I saw the pale gypsy lady waiting in the shadows,
So I put the carnival behind me, fleeing across the meadows.
Pursued, by the raven that was no bird, but something awful,
I made my way from those outskirts back to town so lawful…
So serene in its’ simplicity of the rush and whirl of life around!
Childhood was over and I now needed new joys to be found.
The past was dead, and I knew that; I had learned my lesson,
Even as I made my way home, which to my heart did beckon.
When you tryst with mistress Death, you come to appreciate,
Living life ever fuller in the here and now, before it is too late!
Sometimes, I spy a raven, and I wonder if it she is watching…
But of course Death always is, for her eyes are on everything.
Worry not if she will find you, for in due time she always will,
And in the end, one final tryst will take place, before all is still.
Published 12th Oct 2012
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