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Main › Culture & Art › Poetry & Poems
 

The Fifth Moon: Chant of the Ghoul [Part III]

 

Half Moon And Chant of the Ghoul

Half Moon

The teeth of the shadows, and ghouls could be seen in the dried-up sea-cliffs of the moon; had some one taken time to examine them that is. The shadows and shapes had hoofs and were tasting blood they had brought from earth, and stomping their hoofs about the airless plateau, into the crumbling sod, and dust: drunken wits with desires came over them, as they continued dancing, wildly dancing on the edge of the moon.

The Serpent Ghoul,

A Dancing Ghoul on the Moon

There was tides, ripples, drowned around the moon, and a shadow with a husky voice, called the Chanting Ghoul, sluggishly, cast his eyes down to earth, to the windows of the renowned Castle Eliz, his abode, in the Mosel Valley.

And the spirits ears heard the request, wish (Ronda the seer, transported, via, telepathy; ah yes, crushing to the ghoul's lustful ears, icy fingers and all; the waves and currents of the message read:

"A young woman called Eva, wished to visit the land of the dead" ?to see her lover, who was also her brother, once more; begging the spirit, please!"?

Thought the spirit, 'How does she know he is here? " ?for he is not!' But nonetheless, he'd play the best, show he could. He was indeed an actor, not reactor. And like fish with no bones, the Ghouls of the moon, left their abode" ?for the Mosel.

And with him went the power, the Chanting Ghoul took with him the power to transpose the ripples of the five moons, an everlasting repetition of framework and trance.

Then chanting spirit, walked along the Mosel River, dabbling with sea worms, and dead bones, along its banks, "We are glad you came,"? said the hundred or so Imps, devils and demons, waiting for the women (who had according to them: given her rights away: wishing to enter their abode, alone!).

The Chanting Ghoul groaned, moaned, chanted in a low voice: "We shall crack her bones, like old timbers, mark her soul: vacant: for wickedness has no eyes for love."?

And all his fellowship followed him to the courtyard of the Castle.

The voice said, to his comrades (boastfully): "I shall put this young life into a little box, and inside the box she will find out, this is where hell-dwells."? The followers answered nothing: just thoughts hidden in desires, and waiting.

"Lo,"? he shouted, "I shall choke out the candle inside her soul."? And the horde of demonic creatures yelled, shouted, and had merriment for the moment: anything to make their boring lives spark.

(And that is how it was, the morning of the half-moon.)

And Chant of the Ghoul

The Chanting Ghoul

The Chanting Ghoul thought of what he would do now full of lust, desire, with this woman seeking to enter the harsh cracked walls of the underworld: thus, planting seeds in the corner of his mind:

"Come cat to this rat, I shall perch on your spine" ?; pull out your claws, plunge them into my eyes, while I fondle your neck, back and thighs" ?stroke your fur; mistress of my mind, darling touch my cold deep stare, while I smell the fragrance of your flesh; delight in it. From toe, to head, I shall touch my hands upon your flesh!...

The shroud of the morning mist was now lifted, faintly lit, "Let the feast begin,"? cried the ghoul, "let lust light your gaze, be what you will, O Beelzebub, will be pleased."?

And he spoke to his demonic colleagues:

"I feel sorry for anyone who has to live with my disposition, any human that is for I shall snatch her up like a tornado and slug her and slam her right back down where she started from (he was boasting again; it's what demons do for fun); that be the benefit of my pleasure, having watched her take the trip."?

Several ghouls were around the Chanting One, listening, "What was it I said yesterday,"? Amrita said.

"You said a lot yesterday,"? and the Chanting One, added, "and a lot of what it was, was 'a fellow will trip himself foolishly the someway, in the same day, over a woman; I think you mean me?"? And Amrita said not a word.

Author: Dennis Siluk
 
Author Bio:

Dennis Siluk

Writing is more than a hobby for me. It's a passion, one of the ways I capture and celebrate life.

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