PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

There once lived an hermit

In the edge of town

Whom lived alone

And would never smile

But from time to time

He would open his shack

For the kids of the town

And tell them stories

Of why he would never smile

And the kids adored the man

And named him

'The Hermit of dawn'

For everyday, when the sun kissed the sky

The hermit would come out

And swear at the birds

Who would gather over the roof of his shack

I decided I should hear the stories

Of the man as well,

And perhaps help the poor soul

He greeted me in

And as we sat

He would tell me of a forest

Where the sky pour into the ocean

And the tree sing of dead heroes

And the land itself tricks those who tread on it

There they sat

A company of twenty

Resting from a journy to a land

So far away

He wouldn't ever remember its name

And as they sat by the bonefire

They heard a song

Of wretched horned beings

With hooves instead of legs

And horns instead of mind

The beasts colored their forehead 

With the blood of the fallen

And sang in their toungue

Screamed, and moaned

Untill the knights wept in fear

And fled to the borders of the woods

Where they deemed they would be safe

And when they slept

Nightmares stood near by

They awoke to the sound of a body being carried away

And screams of a man

Who was once their friend

The birds!

The birds now hunted men

With hands rather than wings

And eyes hungry for flesh

They ripped the knights apart

And as the hermit told me how he escaped

He wept into his sleeve

And warned me this

'Damned be the ones

Who allow the people of the night

 To Complete their song'

And as he spoke

The sound of fire cracking 

And of a bonefire rising

Came to my ears

And there I saw

The people of the night

Singing

The song of destruction