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A Letter from Hara Castle
- A Letter from Hara Castle -
From one of my past-life memories…
May 10th, 1638, Hara Castle,
“For only one more blood-red month,
Can we hold out here against the odds!
My people seek comfort and warmth,
Knowing not that I serve darker gods.
The air from the water grows icy chill,
As the armies of the Shogun advance…
Whilst peasants take up arms, children:
And I am their father and their mother.
They plant crops but can they now kill?
I shudder to imagine the coming dance.
Soon we shall face those terrible men…
This battle will consume; it will smother.
You are my ally, a necromancer grand,
Mori your name is, and I call you thus!
God will not save us from what befalls,
But mayhap your power can do more.
When I am slain, lend me your hand…
Come to where I lay, do as you must.
By then, black will be all Hara’s walls,
And lost will be our last desperate war.
I no longer serve the god I once did…
So the darkness must be our salvation.
I shall become the dark and so rise up,
Even from Hell itself, I shall yet soar…
But my letter to you must swift be hid!
The messenger I send is low in station,
But welcome him to your table, to sup.
He bears my seal; has much in store…
The cylinder: where my message waits.
Our plan will be long, for vengeance…
But those who fall today: fall in honor.
Their ghosts, we will set free ere long!
Come to Hara when the tide abates…
When the blood is cold, and so thence,
We might triumph over death’s horror.
I go now to lead my people with song!
May the Dark Goddess give us: victory.
I have already accepted of my destiny…”
--- Shiro Amakusa
From one of my past-life memories…
May 10th, 1638, Hara Castle,
“For only one more blood-red month,
Can we hold out here against the odds!
My people seek comfort and warmth,
Knowing not that I serve darker gods.
The air from the water grows icy chill,
As the armies of the Shogun advance…
Whilst peasants take up arms, children:
And I am their father and their mother.
They plant crops but can they now kill?
I shudder to imagine the coming dance.
Soon we shall face those terrible men…
This battle will consume; it will smother.
You are my ally, a necromancer grand,
Mori your name is, and I call you thus!
God will not save us from what befalls,
But mayhap your power can do more.
When I am slain, lend me your hand…
Come to where I lay, do as you must.
By then, black will be all Hara’s walls,
And lost will be our last desperate war.
I no longer serve the god I once did…
So the darkness must be our salvation.
I shall become the dark and so rise up,
Even from Hell itself, I shall yet soar…
But my letter to you must swift be hid!
The messenger I send is low in station,
But welcome him to your table, to sup.
He bears my seal; has much in store…
The cylinder: where my message waits.
Our plan will be long, for vengeance…
But those who fall today: fall in honor.
Their ghosts, we will set free ere long!
Come to Hara when the tide abates…
When the blood is cold, and so thence,
We might triumph over death’s horror.
I go now to lead my people with song!
May the Dark Goddess give us: victory.
I have already accepted of my destiny…”
--- Shiro Amakusa
Published 7th Jan 2013
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Anonymous
8th Jan 2013 6:21pm
Beautiful dark tale!
Mori is also an old scandinavian name by the way.
Mori is also an old scandinavian name by the way.
10th Jan 2013 3:17am
Aye, I know it is. In fact, it rather reminds me also of the name Snorri, which is another common Scandinavian name. It is interesting how names can be common across cultures that had no contact with one another... yet which share certain names and even certain cultural aspects. Fascinating!
The Mori this poem speaks of was Mori Soiken, who was a very, very close ally of mine during the old Edo era of Feudal Japan... and who (a bit like myself) had a rather *dark* reputation that has been embellished over time. At the least, he had great skill with healing and prayer, and was a very spiritual man. At worst, he was mayhap a hell bent necromancer in league with demons whose dark spells enabled people near death to somehow survive their brush with doom and live to fight another day. Or so the common folk believed about him! ;) I always found it intriguing how history and legend are so intimately intertwined and how the truth is oft far, far stranger even than any fiction invented by people. Lol.
I am happy you enjoyed the dark tale told by this poem! It is based (as you may have guessed) on my memories of my past life as Shiro Amakusa, and in particular this poem derives from a memory I have of writing a letter to my closest ally during the siege of Hara Castle, fearing my end was near. So the tone is one of doom and urgency, reflecting the nature of the desperate struggle that was taking place.
The Mori this poem speaks of was Mori Soiken, who was a very, very close ally of mine during the old Edo era of Feudal Japan... and who (a bit like myself) had a rather *dark* reputation that has been embellished over time. At the least, he had great skill with healing and prayer, and was a very spiritual man. At worst, he was mayhap a hell bent necromancer in league with demons whose dark spells enabled people near death to somehow survive their brush with doom and live to fight another day. Or so the common folk believed about him! ;) I always found it intriguing how history and legend are so intimately intertwined and how the truth is oft far, far stranger even than any fiction invented by people. Lol.
I am happy you enjoyed the dark tale told by this poem! It is based (as you may have guessed) on my memories of my past life as Shiro Amakusa, and in particular this poem derives from a memory I have of writing a letter to my closest ally during the siege of Hara Castle, fearing my end was near. So the tone is one of doom and urgency, reflecting the nature of the desperate struggle that was taking place.
