When sky was blue and sea was green and sun gave light to day:
knights in shining armour rode against the four Winds,
on quests to do battle for honour and love.
Serpents, Dragons and Unicorns were more than meat for myth;
Gorgons, Giants, Olympians and time as yet unmade.
Here in the land of make-believe, when Night’s not Night but Day.
The journey starts, here in the heart, with the sin that got in the way.
About to embark on a journey, to a time a long way off:
to a place now long forgotten- where growth went stale and
goodness started to rot.
We must form a company of seven to march forth on and back;
to slip beneath the surface, tread the severed track.
The pathway lost, all overgrown with weeds, pain, hurt, all cracked.
Perils so enormous – danger within packed.
Traps man-made and man-made traps; rising sons, scythes and sickles –
beings bestial, beings fickle.
Routes un-chartered, map’s unclear – even just the faintest fear
will Cerberus sense in nostrils flared, plural heads, intense glare;
eyes of black, there is no end, hound of Hell, not man’s best friend.
Guards the mouth to Hades, grossly heads the fleet –
appetite abundant, human flesh his meat.
If, beyond this point we reach, seven soldiers, whole complete –
the time has come, so gather round,
take your orders spirit bound.
Pay the price to cross the Styx, blackest waters, depths unfold,
Death’s own graveyard, wasted gold.
The Ferryman, lank, forlorn, on the raft, his will us borne.
A silver coin upon his tongue, no eyes, no soul, essence gone.
Step on board, take care, no rush, steady goes or bodies crush.
The Captain of this eerie craft: a pole so long for to shaft,
the way ahead, Ship Ahoy! Hades fed.
Slowly, so slowly doth the deadwood drift
across the ocean wide: shore ahead as groom to bride.
Impending union of land and sea as wedding duet, he and she.
Tide is high, Moon is full – Night’s black cloak – feel it pull.
Now on shore, Earth’s sweet skin: Life’s tough journey re-begin.
Wedding over, vows exchanged: Is it safe now? Prearranged?
Life’s a gamble, a game of chance; no guarantees who leads the dance.
“I am the Lord of the Dance” said He. Who? God, Satan, maybe me?
Get a hold, be brazen, bold, take the helm, in charge, controlled.
Exasperation, puzzled mind, confused state left behind.
If my ship I should steer straight, exist to my will or that of fate?
Attention soldiers stand up, stand tall; tied together, defend from fall.
Ahead the enemy, not friend but foe, disguised donned dangerous, doom in tow.
Debates, decisions still unclear; facts fictitious, fictitious fears.
Where is help, support I need? Solve this problem answer feed.
In early childhood, gently led by parents loving, broken bread;
wine of wisdom, blood of kin, knowledge stinted, no thought to sin.
Innocence unblemished beneath the raven curl,
unveiled inner beauty, reveals a precious pearl.
It matters not the cover – external binding shell;
It’s what’s within – discover.
The guiding light not Hell.
© Liola Lee 2007
This was Part 1 of a poem I wrote in 3 parts . A sort of epic tale (I use the word epic loosely). I hope you enjoy it.