Back To My Roots

Back To My Roots

These roads are exactly what they use to be

Echoes from the long past century.

Whispered old memories whistle in the wind.

Tonight I’m going back to my roots again.

Tyres on the gravel and the pedal to the floor.

Heading back to the Georgia shore.

Not looking back, just moving on.

Tonight I’m going back to my roots alone.

 

I’m going down to the place where it all began.

Me, Suzie Thompson and the Devil’s right hand.

Gonna lay down some chords and listen to the radio.

You know the ink on the paper well it smells home.

You and me together, we were never alone.

But that was then and baby this is now.

Remember when you’re daddy said:

“You got a long way to climb.

You got a lot to give and not much time”?

Now we’ve hit the top and it’s time to come back down.

And now.

 

These roads are exactly what they use to be.

Echoes from the long past century.

Whispered old memories whistle in the wind.

Tonight I’m going back to my roots again.

Tyres on the gravel and the pedal to the floor.

Heading back to the Georgia shore.

Not looking back, just moving on.

Tonight I’m going back to my roots alone.

 

Now I’m waking up beside you in our hotel suite.

Not making love like we mean it in the Chevy’s back seat.

Always rolling like thunder before we say goodbye.

Main Street in Nashville just doesn’t have a view.

Like the gardens in Atlanta’s Piedmont Avenue.

Like Ray Charles said, I got it on my mind.

So I’m loading up and kicking dust in the air.

If I don’t see you before, you know I’ll see you there.

So I tip my hat to the past, thankful that he’s here with me.

You see.

 

These roads are exactly what they use to be.

Echoes from the long past century.

Whispered old memories whistle in the wind.

Tonight I’m going back to my roots again.

Tyres on the gravel and the pedal to the floor.

Heading back to the Georgia shore.

Not looking back, just moving on.

Tonight I’m going back to my roots alone.

 

The boarded up widows of our old family home.

The smell of momma’s pecan pie is one I’ll never disown.

Hiding secrets and memories that sure do make me smile.

But now the past is gone and the future’s here.

Making new memories, new hopes, new fears.

New everything else, but same old me and you.

You’re my Bayou bride, you’re my Cajun queen.

You’re my world, my life, and everything in-between.

You’re all I’ll ever need, and all I’ve ever dreamed.

You see.

 

These roads are exactly what they use to be.

Echoes from the long past century.

Whispered old memories whistle in the wind.

Tonight I’m going back to my roots again.

Tyres on the gravel and the pedal to the floor.

Heading back to the Georgia shore.

Not looking back, just moving on.

Tonight I’m going back to my roots alone.

 

Now I’m a father you’re a mother, one big family.

Two dogs and a kid and one on the way.

Think I’ll grab my pen, and write all this stuff down.

 

Tonight I’m going back.

Tonight I’m going back.

Tonight I’m going back to my roots alone.

 

These roads are exactly all we’ll ever need.

Taking us forwards to the next century.

Your blonde hair blowing in the whistling wind.

Tonight we’re laying down our roots again.

Tyres on the gravel and pedal to the floor.

Heading out of the Georgia shore.

Not looking back, just moving on.

Tonight I’m not starting my life alone.

 

© 2013 Nick Burgin

The Vampyre: Canto Four – The Lord of Underland

 

Deep within the mountains.
Many centuries ago.
Was born a man called Michael.
Our saviour we now know.

Born of what, you’ll find.
Is not what you may think.
Not demon, man, or monster.
His name ne’er writ in ink.

Travelling through worlds.
Keeping peace where he did go.
Friends he made along the way.
Many enemies also.

One beast in particular.
Took an interest in this man.
T’was the beast called Lucifer.
The Lord of Underland.

Scrutinise our hero.
Curiously, he did so.
Waiting for the right time.
To lure in his foe.

Until that time he left –
Young Michael to his task.
Of ridding worlds of evil.
And those of beguiling masks.

One day he found a young boy.
Crying by the river’s mouth.
He asked “Dear boy, what’s wrong?”
His hand, trembling, pointed south.

Michael led the way.
The boy followed close behind.
Anxiety building up.
Afraid of what he’ll find.

When they came across.
A clearing in the trees.
The sight of the burnt village.
Brought him to his knees.

Houses were not but ashes.
Cattle smouldered at their sides.
All the strong men were murdered.
Old women cast aside.

The boy said with a quiver.
“They took the girls and boys.
But some they used and left here.
To burn after they’d enjoyed.”

He was about to turn and run.
Make haste to find the men.
Who’s killings could not happen.
To anyone again.

When a sound like a whimper.
Caught softly in the breeze.
Among the rubble he found.
A girl of maybe thirteen.

Her clothes were torn and bloody.
Her skin, more of the same.
Her eyes were scared and wild.
He thought, perhaps, insane.

“You must run and leave here.
Before it is too late.”
Her voice barely a whisper.
As she predicted his fate.

“They’ll come and they’ll lay blame –
On you for all this blood.
Reason shalln’t prevail.
They’ll bury you in mud.”

She must be delirious.
Being left in such a mess.
He began to remove her clothes.
To heal her wounded flesh.

The shout came almost instant.
“The monster! ‘Tis still here!”
And soon he was surrounded.
By men with knives and spears.

His protested innocence.
Went utterly unheard.
They beat him until broken.
And left him in the dirt.

Finally they left.
With a vicious “Be back soon.”
With plans, he was quite sure.
Would surely seal his doom.

The girl, he saw get up.
Onto once disfigured legs.
Which like all of her lesions.
Had no scars like all the rest.

She sat down beside Michael.
Placed her hand upon his face.
And softly she whispered.
‘I’ll return for you someday”.

Then her face began to age.
Into something quite beautiful.
The young girl, a mere disguise.
To trick those silly fools.

And with a flash she vanished.
Into the cool, crisp air.
In her place stood another.
His grotesque body bare.

“Michael, I’ve been watching.
All the good that you have done.
It doesn’t look too likely.
You’ll survive this battle, son.”

“Now, some folk call me Satan.
Or Lucifer, if you like.
I can save you from those men.
Of course, they’ll be a price.”

“That sweet young thing that left you.
A product of my fire.
The kindest of all my children.
There is love in that vampire.”

“If you accept my help.
You’ll be with her one fine day.
Though be under no illusions.
You’ll have to fight for her, ok?”

“I may have a bad rep.
Some people think I’m cruel.
But I’ve known love and pain.
I’m anything but a ghoul.”

“I’m the man who can grant wishes.
If you’ll give me a chance.
I can give you love and life.
For I’m the Lord of Underland.”

“But there is one more thing.
That you should know before.
Granted, you’ll forget.
Until you break down his door.”

“There is a man called Sight.
A demon worse than me.
Not stronger, but pure evil.
And we’ve made a deal, see.”

“I’ll give this new life.
Then deliver you to Sight.
But I’ll make you a promise.
To help you win your fight.”

And so it was agreed.
Michael took the deal.
And awoke he did again.
In a time far from that field.

The Vampyre: Canto Three – Marisa’s Interlude

 

I fell, it seemed, for days.
Through the earth’s gaping hole.
When finally I landed.
In a place full of damned souls.

“Welcome dear Marisa.”
Came the booming evil voice.
“Come join me in my quarters.”
My eye’s, I felt, were moist.

“Don’t cry, poor old vampire.
For I do not wish you harm.
It’s the boy I seek to capture.
His soul I wish to farm.”

My mind filled with confusion.
His soul was already lost.
When I turned sweet young Michael.
In to the demon I so loved.

Sight, he seemed to sense this.
And flashed a heinous grin.
“I’ve made a deal with the Devil.
To amend for all my sin.”

“A trap, I’ve laid, for Michael.
That I could not achieve.
Without this bait before me.
Which is why you can not leave.”

I knew one day he’d come.
My hero of the night.
To save me from this horror.
The monster we call Sight.

He threw me in a dungeon.
And sealed it with spells.
Not simple vampiric magic.
But enchantments straight from hell.

“You’ll stay here until he comes.
On his futile quest.
To free you from my clutches.
An unachievable test.”

I slumped into the corner.
Buried my head in my hands.
And sent out a silent prayer.
To keep Michael from this land.

How long I could not tell you.
I was kept within this tomb.
As a play thing for these monsters.
I wished daily for their doom.

Day-time I stayed curled up.
Tightly within myself.
Glad for now it was over.
Knowing it won’t help.

I woke up with a start.
At the clattering of keys.
My once locked door was open.
My first thought was “a dream?”

The door was once more locked.
But my visitor remained.
A smile on his kind face.
My fear, for now, had waned.

The young man came to see me.
To bring to me sustenance.
I felt his eyes upon me.
I finally saw my chance.

I asked him for his name.
He told me “It’s François”.
I brushed his lips with my own.
And placed my hand upon his heart.

I let my clothing drop.
The boy stared at me in awe.
And hungrily I took him.
As we lay down on the floor.

I felt his desire burst.
As he panted in my ear.
I took my chance right then.
His eyes widened with fear.

I bit down on his neck.
And pulled with all my might.
His severed gullet gushed.
A perverse, erotic sight.

From his coat I took the key.
To free me from this cage.
I gathered up my clothing.
And quickly I made haste.

But I did not get too far.
For Sight had seen this pass.
And waiting for me he was.
My freedom did not last.

“Did you think I would not see this?
You silly little tramp.
I see all there is to see.
I shan’t be tricked by a vamp.”

I screamed a vicious “fuck you!”
And lunged towards my guard.
He dodged me with simple ease.
And drove a stake in hard.

I cried out in sheer agony.
And clutched my bleeding chest.
Through the right side he had thrust.
Though it didn’t hurt much less.

“Stay here and rot forever.
I care not if you become –
A rotting corpse of bones.
You’re demise will be quite fun”

He threw me back into the cage.
And laughed as he kept my clothes.
“I think I’ll take these with me.
You’ll not need them, I suppose.”

With that, they descended.
A group of maybe twelve.
All ready to enjoy me.
In my chalice they would delve.

When all of a sudden.
An explosion rocked the room.
A cloud of dust surrounded.
The dank and misty tomb.

When the debris had settled.
And the shouts and screams had stopped.
I looked around and saw that –
Those dozen bodies had dropped.

In pools of blood they lay.
Whilst Sight just stood, aghast.
And across from him I saw.
My prince had come at last.

“I’ve come to put and end –
To you, you fool, dear Sight.
Let Marisa play no part.
For I’m ready for our fight.”

Sight smiled and spread his arms.
And said “Welcome to my home.”
I was counting on this meeting.
I knew you’d not leave her alone.

Michael took me in his arms.
I said “You must leave here.
For whatever comes next.
Is what we have to fear.”

And just like that he fell.
Just crumbled to the floor.
Sight cackled like a raven.
And said “It’s show-time, whore”.

My end of Year One blog review

It’s the end of the year, so I thought I’d review the first year of my blog, for myself if nothing else.

 

Followers: 87 – no idea if that’s good or not…I’m pretty sure it’s not great 🙂 Although thank you to everybody who’s followed me so far!

Total views: 853 – I was aiming for 1000, so I’m not too far off.

Best day for views – 28 on August 5th thanks to a 14 view surge from Three Chord Queen.

 

Top 3 “likes”:

3. Cellophane Man https://jbjfan2009.wordpress.com/2013/08/07/cellophane-man-a-poem/ – 8 likes

    The Vampyre: Canto One https://jbjfan2009.wordpress.com/2013/08/20/the-vampyre-a-gothic-romance/ – 8 likes

2. Her: Part 3 https://jbjfan2009.wordpress.com/2013/09/29/her-part-three/ – 10 likes

1. Here’s to you, kid https://jbjfan2009.wordpress.com/2013/11/23/heres-to-you-kid/ – 11 likes

 

Most views:

Although most of my “likes” come from my poems and lyrics, two of my top three views are from quite dark articles I wrote about Euthanasia, and the death of actor Cory Monteith from a heroin overdose.

3. Euthanasia https://jbjfan2009.wordpress.com/2013/07/31/euthanasia-if-youve-read-none-of-my-rants-so-far-please-read-this/ – 31 views

2. Three Chord Queen – https://jbjfan2009.wordpress.com/2013/07/27/three-chord-queen/ – 49 views

1. The Hollywood Addiction https://jbjfan2009.wordpress.com/2013/07/15/the-occasional-rant-formerly-daily-rant-episode-six-the-hollywood-addiction/ – 81 views

P.S. The answer to “how many Taylor Swift song titles” are in Three Chord Queen is…44!

 

Fan favourites:

Grandad https://jbjfan2009.wordpress.com/2013/05/04/grandad/

Alabama Blues https://jbjfan2009.wordpress.com/2013/03/14/alabama-blues-a-poem/

Survivor https://jbjfan2009.wordpress.com/2013/08/14/me-myself-and-i-a-poem/

 

My favourites:

The Present https://jbjfan2009.wordpress.com/2013/02/04/the-present-a-poem-2/ – the first poem I ever wrote.

Sweet Beatrice, My Muse https://jbjfan2009.wordpress.com/2013/10/01/sweet-beatrice-my-muse/

Welcome To The Honky Tonk https://jbjfan2009.wordpress.com/2013/08/28/welcome-to-the-honky-tonk-2/

Back To The Summer https://jbjfan2009.wordpress.com/2013/12/12/back-to-the-summer/

 

Unexpected Disappointments:

Back To My Roots https://jbjfan2009.wordpress.com/2013/06/02/back-to-my-roots-version-one/ – 0 likes

I’ll Always Be Your Hero https://jbjfan2009.wordpress.com/2013/09/06/ill-always-be-your-hero/ – 2 likes

Party Town https://jbjfan2009.wordpress.com/2013/06/22/party-town-or-one-of-those-nights/ – 2 likes

 

A lot of my other earlier poems like “Grandad” and “Alabama Blues” have got 0 likes, hopefully due to the fact that I had barely any followers, so I’m not too disappointed. 

 

I guess that’s it. All in all a pretty good first year I think. Roll on 2014!

 

Happy New Year!

 

 

Honky-Tonk Christmas!

Happy honky-tonk Christmas time.

Mistletoe kisses and moonshine.

Denim shirts and Santa Claus sacks.

Holly and ivy and dirt road tracks.

 

Dressed in tinsel from head to toe.

Is Suzie Thompson as well you know.

In a reindeer jumper and Stetson hat.

As candy canes hang on the gun rack.

 

Willie Nelson singing Christmas songs.

From the jukebox playing all night long.

Mulled wine and pecan pie served up with a smile.

Time to open our presents in a while.

 

Christmas Eve’s counting down 3…2…1.

Roast goose and egg nog, potatoes and ham.

Soon we’ll be singing Auld Lang Syne.

But for now it’s a honky-tonk Christmas time.

 

Outside the snow is starting to fall.

Grab your gloves, and scarf, and sledge an’ all.

Put down your pitcher, put on your boots.

Jump on board and we’ll shoop! shoop! shoop!

 

We’ll race right down to the frozen lake.

Dodging snowmen all along the way.

Warm up with a coffee with a whiskey shot.

As the kids enjoy skating while we watch.

 

Then we’ll head back up to where the neon sign –

Is flashing it’s welcome all day and all night.

So join me in wishing all the cowgirl’s and cowboy’s.

Have a merry and happy honky-tonk Christmas time.

Merry Christmas Everybody – A poem

My mum told me to write a happy Christmas poem…it’s almost finished, so here’s this one for the time being 🙂

 

The snowman in the yard is melting.

The Christmas tree has shed its fur.

The mistletoe’s gone dry and dying, like me.

It’s a lonely Christmas without her.

 

I hope she’s wrapped up warm and happy.

At this fun and festive time of year.

Eating mince pies and drinking lots of egg nog.

And funny named Christmas beer.

 

It’s a lonely Christmas without her.

 

What if you were alone on that cold night?

Just watching as the soap stars fight.

Would you still sing your favourite Christmas songs?

If the snow just didn’t fall at night.

 

If it feels like Jesus turned his back.

Gave up and left you all alone.

Remember hope and faith’ll get you on track.

And your family’s waiting back at home.

 

But it’s a lonely Christmas without her.

There’s no gold or frankincense, just myrrh.

 

You know I still got you a present.

It’s not much but that’s alright.

Because I can’t give it to you anyway.

It sure as hell ain’t worth the fight.

 

So Merry Christmas everybody.

I guess that’s what the people say.

Happy friends and family smiling up at me.

I lie and tell them I’m ok.

 

Just take my hand and we’ll go away.

 

I guess you’ll be with him if you prefer.

So it’s a lonely Christmas without her.

Razorblade Romance

Razor blade romance.

Blood soaked bride.

Two oozing dark red corpses.

Laying side by side.

One last act of passion.

One last act of love.

Once last chance to be together.

A promised stained with blood.

Two ethereal images.

Eternally entwined.

Dancing with the devil.

As veins and blade align.

Love that’s everlasting.

Always has a chance.

I promise you’ll enjoy it.

Your razor blade romance.

Back To The Summer

Back To the Summer

I’m on the phone. Voice-mail message, hitting re-record.

I’m all alone. Whispering “no-one would treat you better”.

Sweet angel. I’d treat you like a princess like no-one else would.

Every day. I’d tell you that I love you, you know I’d mean it.

 

But it all went wrong when I came home stinking.

Stale cigarettes from a night out drinking.

Now I’m thinking.

What can I do to make things better?

 

Let’s go back to the summer, I was sorry for the fighting.

Standing on your front porch in the thunder and the lightning, baby.

I was waiting all night long to see you.

If I could take it all back, you know I would do right now.

Quicker than a flash like fading memory, some how.

But back to the summer is wishful thinking.

Back to the summer is a ship that’s sinking.

 

Two years have passed. Sitting in my office still dreaming of you.

I see you out. Having fun with friends, with that same sad smile.

I gave to you. Let’s try again baby, wipe that slate clean.

I miss you. Every day is agony. Is it worth it?

 

But it all went wrong with the crazy accusations.

Screaming and shouting with you words like razors.

Now the nights hurt.

And the days they don’t seem much better.

 

So let’s go back to summer, I was sorry for the fighting.

Standing on your front porch in the thunder and the lightning, baby.

I was begging all night long just for you to see me.

If I could take it all back, you know I would do right now.

Quicker than a flash like fading memory, some how.

But back to the summer is wishful thinking.

Back to the summer is a ship that’s sinking.

 

These days our passion and our innocence, are like a fading memory.

You bright blue eyes still hit me like a burning house of cards.

The summer seems so long ago, in the bleak mid winter January.

Lets breathe new life into these old dead roses, it shouldn’t be to hard.

Leave the past in the past, alone and dying.

Take my hand, join me in trying.

 

And we’ll go back to the summer, it was hotter than lightening.

Holding hands on the hammock, just swinging and smiling, baby.

Making love all night long, you whisper “do you love me?”

If I could have it all back, you know I’d take it girl, truly.

Quicker than a flash we can make new memories, and here’s how.

We’ll go back to the summer, right here, right now.

 

© 2013 Nick Burgin

Return of the Rant – Episode Ten: Contains Strong Language, Violence, and Scenes of a Sexual Nature

So the Rant returns after a three month absence. The poetry’s just been flowing too well recently. But I was reading an article on Yahoo this morning about actress Elizabeth Olsen, and how she’s comfortable with on screen nudity, and how she finds it empowering.

About her recent nude scene in the remake of South Korean classic “Oldboy”, she says: “It helps tell a more grotesque story. There’s nothing gratuitous about it, and it creates the opposite of pleasure. I find it empowering.”

In world that has gone PC mad, and nudity is seen as the ultimate taboo, it’s good to see a talented young actress who is comfortable with her own body, and doesn’t shy away from top movie roles because they require nudity. Her role in ” Martha Macy May Marlene” in 2011, was critically acclaimed as one of the top début performances of recent years.

However not everybody agrees. Some comments on the article claim that people who take their clothes off in movies or on TV are somehow sluts or whores, and even liken their actions to that of prostitutes – selling their bodies for money. Funny how these people never mention male nudity…or actress such as Meryl Streep or Helen Mirren. Do these people avoid any film with nudity? They need to get off their high horses and realise that nudity in movies in sometimes essential to the story, and not just their for titillation. Would films like “Shame” or “Blue Is The Warmest Colour” have worked if the main characters wore trench coats and wellies? Probably not.

At the end of the day, it’s just a naked body. You see one every day. And I bet most of these people don’t complain about graphic violence or crude language in movies. “But the violence isn’t real” they’ll argue. No, no it isn’t, but what’s more likely to affect and influence a young person, a pair of breasts, or someone “pretending” to be decapitated or disembowelled?

It’s worrying that parents of teenagers will happily buy their children a “Grand Theft Auto” game, a game which I’m sure, by now, we all know what is involved, but cry bloody murder if any kind of nudity is shown on TV before 9 o’clock. Because, as we all know, children and teenagers turn off the televisions in their rooms after that time, and of course wouldn’t dare to use the internet on their phones, tablets or laptops, to access such filth.

Shame on Hollywood for it’s vile corruption and exploitation of these poor actresses that get paid millions of dollars to do what they do.

The Vampyre: Canto Two – The Necromancer

The Vampyre: Canto Two – The Necromancer

 

The day that my Marisa woke.

I looked into her eyes.

I said “Now things are better”.

And took her between her thighs.

 

Amidst the nocturnal chill.

A fire ignited between us.

Writhing bodies forever entwined.

Forever entwined with lust.

 

I told her I avenged her.

Put her attackers in the ground.

She uttered something like a sob.

A sweet and gentle sound.

 

I took her hands within my own.

As we lay side by side.

She kissed me once, kissed me twice.

Our love we could not hide.

 

So once again we stalked.

Into the shelter of the night.

Frenzied feeding’s often.

The thrill of futile fights.

 

When one night I came across.

A man dressed all in white.

His hand he offered to me.

His name, he said, was “Sight”.

 

He foretold me of the day.

When our time would all but end.

The underworld will unite.

This time our bodies won’t mend.

 

To him I said “What are you?”

“What’s the meaning of all this?”

His answer came quite wordless.

As he opened up his wrist.

 

“Take my blood this instant.

And in it you shall see.

One way, and one way only.

To foil this prophesy”.

 

I did so, as instructed.

And, willingly, from his arm.

I drank until a vision.

Made me recoil with alarm.

 

A thousand blades were thrashing.

Smiling a twisted grimace.

Blood shed from every angle.

Fear upon Marisa’s face.

 

But within this bloody battle.

“Sight” I did doth find.

And show me what I need.

To keep us both alive.

 

“Why show me all this, wizard?

Why fear me not, as others do?

Why allow my carnage?

At least give me a clue.”

 

“It’s not for you I do this.

But, indeed, just for your bride.

She is this dark land’s saviour.

Keep her safely by your side.”

 

With that dear “Sight” did vanish.

In wisps of pure white air.

But the necromancer’s words.

I could still quite clearly hear.

 

“Provoke them into battle.

Until surrounded you both are.

Then unleash hell upon them.

Your actions will reach far.”

 

I told Marisa of.

My meeting with the witch.

She agreed what must be done.

To keep our lives full and rich.

 

So that night we attended.

The bloody dance of death.

Bodies strewn across the floor.

In a delicious pulpy mess.

 

I presented sweet Marisa.

With a young and luscious gift.

A girl of maybe sixteen.

A treat she could not resist.

 

I eased the girl down to the floor.

Marisa could not help but test.

The sweet and viscous nectar.

As she bit down on ample breast.

 

She drank until delirious.

Her lust satisfied by blood.

The girl she’d sucked and ravaged.

We buried deep within the mud.

 

We rampaged through the country.

No care for human soul.

Spilling blood by the gallon.

Recklessness taking its toll.

 

Take comfort in the knowledge.

If attacked we were quite safe.

For our hearts, you see, we hid.

From a poking, prodding stake.

 

The buxom wench with which.

Marisa frolicked in the gore.

Our hearts we buried with her.

That poor unwilling whore.

 

So when they came to find us.

The pitiful group of boys.

They hacked and hacked for hours.

With their sharpened little toys.

 

But rise again we did.

Each time they thought they’d won.

Laughing at their attempts –

To end us, was quite fun.

 

More came to join the fight.

More blood was spilled that day.

More blood to make us stronger.

More bodies hung and flayed.

 

Priests and pastors battled.

To exorcise our souls.

Their throats we did rip open.

To quash their futile goal.

 

When finally the gave up.

The men who sought us harm.

I held Marisa to me.

Took her firm within my arms.

 

“Congratulations!” Came –

The voice I knew quite well.

“Sight” appeared behind us.

Delirious, I could tell.

 

“This world will now be ours.

Now that the battle’s won.”

He moved towards Marisa.

His eyes like shining sun’s.

 

I put myself between them.

The threat indeed apparent.

With a twisted grin he pointed.

His motives now aberrant.

 

Marisa’s piercing scream.

Shattered all my senses.

As beneath the ground she fell.

My pain far too intense.

 

“Together we will rule.

The growing underworld.

And you, my dear old friend.

Will rot here on your own.”

 

“Sight, you’ll not succeed!

I’ll get my princess back!

And you, my dear old warlock!

Should prepare for my attack.

 

With one last evil chuckle.

“Sight” vanished with the air.

And to my knees I fell.

My life in disrepair.

 

But in my head I heard her.

Whispering my name.

“Save me from this monster.

This never-ending pain.”

 

I screamed a silent vow.

To bring her safely home.

A plan hatching in my head.

To put Sight to the test.