PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The Feast.

I watched two men carrying a very large full-length mirror. As they came to me they placed the mirror so that I saw myself but it was not I. I looked again at what I was seeing. This is not me I am eighty-five years old, what I am seeing is a young man of about twenty-five. I was looking at a man that looked like me when I was that age.

My dress not a suit but a large golden robe and what was all this jewellery? Rings on my fingers each flashing, where did I get such diamonds. On my head a turban with opal badges also flashing in the highly lighted room. I staggered back and fell into a luxurious throne. This was no ordinary chair. Now thoughts flashed through my mind. Have I been kidnapped and taken to India? Am I a Rajah? What has happened to me? One question followed the other.

The laugh that followed was a deep laugh but it was not a laugh that showed real pleasure this was more of a sarcastic laugh then music wonderful music I recognised some of the tunes. Opera’s well known Operas from many Famous Musicians. Then a cacophony of sound and once again the sarcastic laugh someone was having a wonderful time at my expense. Faceless men and women served food such as I had never seen before in my long life. Drinks of nectars out of this world each inviting me to drink more and more. I forced myself not to drink any more of the nectars, if some one wanted to get me drunk then I was not going to give them the satisfaction of them seeing me rolling around drunk. I took one of the small dainty sandwiches. It was lovely to taste then as I swallowed the whole of my mouth turned sour, no not sour a horrible bitter taste that I had never experienced before. Once again that loud sarcastic laugh sounded. Who was this idiot taking me for such a ride?

A commotion at the end of the room looking up I saw men and women each carried a piece of card on which were printed the following. Murderer, Thief, Rapist, Politician in fact printed on each card was what each person had committed during his or her lifetime. The laugh came again this time loud and even more sarcastic.

The voice I should have introduced myself when you first came to this feast given in your honour. A small lesson to warn you that no one escapes from my very capable hands. I am the one Angel that disagreed with God. I was put in charge of hell and I enjoy my work. Occasionally I pick someone out that one cannot really call a sinner. This feast is not only a warning if you do not commit some crime or other you will go to Heaven. Heaven take it from me is one boring place. No food and drink like one would have here in my part of heaven called Hell. You if you commit a suitable crime can live here in this place. You will be able to feed and drink of the best that can be had. Why look at that card around your neck. What is written on it? I looked down and saw Innocence. I allowed myself a sarcastic laugh. Taking off my Turban, my Gown and the Jewellery I walked out of the room as naked as when I was born. The sarcastic laughter followed me as I awoke in my own bed. Thank goodness it was all a bad dream. I hope that none of my readers are bothered by such dreams. If you are let me your scribbler know and I will report you dreams to all of the readers of my works Bern.