The self-hosted WordPress site is now up and running. All new updates and posts going forward will be there. Please visit http://jonashyde.com to read the classical narrative poetry of Jonas Hyde.
Lament for Lady Beth
In Poetry on June 7, 2008 at 8:28 amLament for Lady Beth
by Jonas Hyde
T’was once a man who walked this cobbled street,
with quill and ink in hand,
who accomplished such a magnificent feat,
on a scale so wide and grand,
for he was a poet true,
known far across this land,
as a smith of words, oft who,
wove tales littered of romance and fears,
with a skill matched world ‘round by few,
by those who strived to be his peers,
but little did they know his words were, in actuality, scribed with real blood and tears.
In past by day, using wit and charm,
he enticed women without regard,
but by night, to them each and all, would only come pain and harm,
a curse he could not control tho’ he tried so hard,
the monster dwelling within his dreams,
leaving women lifeless and his own psyche scarred,
for every morn’ he woke, he heard their deathly screams,
and tho’ this poet named Elias at birth,
would try numerous plans and schemes,
his life was void of happiness and mirth,
causing him to challenge in truth, his eventual purpose and own self-worth.
Tho’ his curse had not always been,
‘stead coming to him after deal with Tempter was made,
for fame and fortune was his sin,
and this curse fore’er was his trade,
unless his heart could find love’s hue,
and for that every day he prayed,
but with each eve that passed he knew,
morrow’s morn would be ushered by death so cruel,
serving up his own tears of rue,
leaving him to play the fool,
learning hard that sorrow following sin was an eternal rule.
‘Til the fateful day when this story starts,
as most lessons do,
when love at first sight ravaged young lovers’ hearts,
as if born from a sorcerer’s brew,
for it was then when he met her,
woman beautiful so, with raven’s hair and eyes as deep as ocean blue,
and our poet’s heart quickly began to stir,
lost within the presence of she who stole his breath,
as the world ‘round him began to blur,
he vowed ne’er to love again by pledge of his own death,
save for this woman simply known as Lady Beth.
‘Pon shared breath their love was sealed,
costing to start not even a word,
for when looking into each other’s eyes their souls were healed,
and tho’ some may find it absurd,
their lives seemed eternally blessed,
and it was then when to Elias it occurred,
to put such thoughts true to the test,
for if Lady Beth truly had an effect so,
then it would also suggest,
that perhaps she could ease his nightly woe,
and salvation, her love could bestow.
So with that their courtship began,
and their love started to grow,
love which made Elias a better man,
for by day and night his heart blazed aglow,
with the thought of Lady Beth’s touch,
‘til after six months time he simply had to know,
if his salvation could be simple as such,
as sharing his world with she,
or if it were asking too much,
so that evenfall her took her to the sands bordering the sea,
and as dusk fell, Elias made his plea.
“Lady Beth I speak to you now,”
as he held her hands in his so tight,
“and ‘pon my ain heart I make you this sacred vow,
fore’er for us shall begin tonight,
and last even past our ends,
if you will accept my invite,
to be so much more than friends,
to become my wife,
for our love transcends,
for with you I want to share my life,
and with that, end all of our trials and strife.”
As was her way,
Lady Beth looked deep into his eyes,
and even tho’ there were no precise words to say,
how she felt and how he made her heart rise,
her gaze said it all,
for she could not disguise,
how love which started so small,
could quickly grow so deep,
how he had been there when she herself was about to fall,
for even she had secrets to keep,
which when alone at night would softly make her weep.
For in the darkness of her own past,
were secrets locked away,
undisclosed whispers that were in stark contrast,
to how she felt on this day,
for in her youth,
she was feasted upon as prey,
deflowered in a way so uncouth,
the very thought of it brought tears and pain,
and no matter how hard she tried to hide the truth,
she could not refrain,
from having tears of fear fall oft as London rain.
So together these two stayed,
the night through on this beach,
comforting each other so neither was afraid,
of the night’s tortuous reach,
and for the first time in fore’er,
for both and each,
they longed to awake together or never,
as they pledged each other their eternal love,
a bond which would never sever,
to put the other on a pedestal tall and above,
a feeling that ‘fore neither had dreamed of.
Starting with a touch, followed with a kiss,
their passion was secured,
penetrating bliss,
and with that Elias was assured,
that Lady Beth was the one,
as when morning came he thought he was cured,
for the first time in fore’er his love rose with the sun,
and watching her as she dressed,
his curse seemed finally undone,
lost within her smell, her warmth, her life, he noticed upon her breast,
a perfect mark from birth, in the likeness of a wren’s nest.
So noon next they returned home and plans begun,
as Lady Beth shared the news,
family and friends were all excited save one who would not be outdone,
sister Anne who concocted a ruse,
to pillage Elias’ love and lust,
to try and replace his muse,
to try and gain his trust,
for visage with sister she shared,
twins at birth, though harboring a silent disgust,
a hatred born of always being compared,
wishing it would be for her, not Lady Beth, that people cared.
The day came when Elias and his love were to wed,
so Anne put her plan into motion,
to take Lady Beth’s place at the altar in her stead,
for she had come up with the notion,
that Elias’ love should be hers,
so in secret she concocted a potion,
a recipe passed down from the most venomous saboteurs,
which would create a lasting sleep,
so that what next occurs,
would be her sin to reap,
but then, as most already know, the cost of such follies is never cheap.
With a villain’s deftly grace,
Anne met her sister alone,
and under the guise of offering good luck’s embrace,
she enacted her plan which only the Tempter would condone,
for the potion had been laced,
within the fabric of the veil that was hand sewn,
which when ‘pon Lady Beth it was placed,
the fumes were inhaled,
causing her to fall o’er at the waist,
into waiting Anne’s arms, as her plan had detailed,
leaving her to smile, for she knew she had prevailed.
Anne next placed her sister ‘pon the ground,
with one final task to complete,
tho’ she had to hurry ‘fore they were found,
to quickly finish this act of deceit,
so Anne unbuttoned the dress,
which concealed Lady Beth’s heartbeat,
and no longer able her vileness to suppress,
she inked ‘pon self the likeness to,
the mark of which her sister’s breast did possess,
the wren’s nest she matched through and through,
‘pon herself as if birth’s true tattoo.
And though it sounds so tragic,
with plan complete, Anne left her sister to die,
to let the potion work its dark magic,
so she could be ever so sly,
and have Elias for herself, for all of time,
even tho’ their love would be a lie,
Anne cared not of her crime,
she simply wanted Elias in a way she could not explain,
as her lust for this poet was truly sublime,
so her sister’s life she would feign,
if it meant with Elias she could remain.
Anne next went to the alter in a rush,
and as she saw the poet there ready and waiting,
her face started to blush,
witnesses thought its cause was love visually translating,
but rather it was the sign of sin’s pact being completed,
for Anne the duality of the moment was elating,
and with Lady Beth defeated,
that night with Elias would be breathtaking,
caring not that she cheated,
for in the moment of their love making,
all else would be forsaken.
So let this story now move to that exact second,
as it is a question oft’ asked,
when Elias’ manhood did Anne’s flower beckon,
in that moment how did true love remain masked,
the answer is one of which any man would not be proud,
for it comes down simply to within her petals he basked,
lost within the moment’s cloud,
thinking it was with his love Lady Beth that his body danced,
not knowing he was deceived by sin’s shroud,
and even when ‘pon the heaving nest he glanced,
the visage of the beauty ‘for him left Elias entranced.
Unfortunately for Anne, Elias’ story she did not know to heed,
leaving her open to a fate she did not expect,
for after sealing their vows with his seed,
she fell asleep in his arms thinking all was perfect,
and it was, ‘til he too fell into night’s slumber,
when for the first time in fore’er the curse over his body came into effect,
the monster within he could not encumber,
and as it awoke,
Anne became just another number,
for his sin did hers provoke,
resulting in her death, fate’s cruel joke.
But day next when Elias rose with the morn’s light,
he was sent into unending despair,
for by his side was the most gruesome sight,
to which he could not stop his stare,
his love he thought he had killed,
for he was still unaware,
that Anne’s sinister plan had been fulfilled,
so instead he thought it was Lady Beth’s body there that did lay,
and all over him his grief spilled,
for he thought his love did the monster within him slay,
and it was a notion which would bring e’erlasting dismay.
Wanting to breath not a moment more,
Elias reached for the nearest blade,
for now himself he did abhor,
and in pain and grief the situation he weighed,
then wished for the strength to bring his own demise,
to unite in death with who he thought he betrayed,
so after whispering ‘pon her cheek his final goodbye,
he plunged the cutting edge deep into his chest,
but as he did he was then met with perhaps this story’s biggest surprise,
something he would ne’er have guessed,
causing him to utter out softly, “Tempter, why with me do you jest?”
For as life within Elias began to escape,
Lady Beth entered the room,
at first the poet did not believe the shape,
his eyes noticed as death began to loom,
but as she came ever so close,
his soul once more did true love consume,
“O’ how fate blows,”
Elias whispered low,
“The Tempter’s plan is truly morose,
I know I reap what I sow,
but is it you my love, or a hoax, I must know ‘fore my soul is sent to the pits below?”
“Nay, it is no ruse which you see,
for I am really here,
it is truly me,”
Lady Beth replied as she drew herself near,
and in the moment that followed her story to him she did relate,
ending with how the poison’s strength was not so severe,
for it only made her sleep the night straight,
rather than through infinity,
a gift perhaps from fate,
a sign maybe even of heavenly divinity,
of which she was starting to forge a true affinity.
Crimson life dripped from his lips,
as Elias offered one last smirk,
he then placed his hands ‘pon her hips,
and uttered his last poet’s work,
offering to her alone his final piece,
as his body began to cough and jerk,
the pace of the words started to increase,
for it was then ‘Lady of my Dreams’ was said,
and ‘pon completion his life finally did cease,
causing her tears to be shed,
for in her arms his body finally fell dead.
Able not to bear the ache,
of her sister’s and lover’s end,
Lady Beth grabbed the blade herself so she could in death also partake,
for she knew her heart would ne’er mend,
and with that thought slit her own skin,
to join Elias as now both their soul’s were to descend,
for with her demise only the Tempter was to win,
but regardless of her torment,
knowing she would spend eternity with Elias made her finally grin,
and even though it was ne’er her intent,
for Lady Beth we shall fore’er lament.
Read Elias’ last words to Lady Beth. Click HERE to read ‘Lady of my Dreams’.
Seraph’s Song: The Epic Fable of Sister Sera
In Poetry, Seraph's Song on January 15, 2009 at 8:52 pmSeraph’s Song:
The Epic Fable of Sister Sera
by Jonas Hyde
I – Fall from Grace
In the beginning,
a line spoken so oft ‘fore,
yet the truth lie hidden,
on what happened the eighth day,
and since that time of yore,
as chanted near pillows of people’s,
is this Seraph’s Song e’ermore.
How she cries,
will make you cry,
for her loss,
her pain,
would surely die,
if it were not whispered on the ethereal winds,
where fables will fore’er fly.
Many stories have been shared,
of the Tempter down,
shunned for his betrayal,
and with him,
legions of others pelted to the depths of darkened town,
like drops of sin,
as if tears from His sightless frown.
What fable oft lost since,
is of one seraph from heaven,
angel great,
who lost her wings,
not for single fault nor eleven,
as the one ‘fore her so well known,
but for exactly seven.
Now I know what thoughts you must have,
what light you would look with her ‘pon,
but judge not too quickly,
for her fall proved to be more lesson and test,
than penalty of death forgone,
as in His eye’s,
love never died on any dawn.
Veins of vice ran through her,
as tempest wind,
tho’ each balanced by virtue true,
so such was the battle for self and soul,
the eternal ebb and flow of life and sin,
a sign of humanity ‘fore man,
and proof of heavens long after faith rescind.
Seraph Sera,
of which this song was penned,
fell from grace for seven sins,
long ‘fore this day,
yet her tale there does not end,
for now she walks the lands,
as one among men.
II – The Pilgrimage
In solitaire,
our Seraph Sera lived in uncertainty,
walking this world alone,
shunned from He she wanted,
while ignored by man’s fraternity,
and the passing of time,
for seemingly an eternity.
Tho’ such infinite torture,
was simply not to be,
for on one gloomy eve,
steeples that ‘fore had been e’er dark,
lit for Seraph Sera to see,
an answer finally,
to her from He.
Soul afire,
careful and cautious she stepped,
entering His house,
and on knee she bent,
waiting for the secrets He kept,
but ‘pon not hearing His voice,
rivers of blood she wept.
“O’ Father hear my pleas,”
Seraph Sera begged with a shout,
and tho’ she waited hours for reply,
it was but an angel’s breath,
‘fore His words finally rang out,
“Do not cry my dear,
your love for me I do not doubt.”
Light filled her soul,
‘pon hearing His tone ring true,
and for a long while they talked,
healing the wounds of their hurt,
as only Father and daughter can do,
and when her apology was complete,
she hoped her damnation was through.
“The choice is yours,”
He spoke softly next,
offering her a chance,
to do His deed,
a trial e’er so complex,
to end the Tempter’s plague,
and cleanse the world of demons’ hex.
In that moment she said yes,
and her eyes of black were torn,
in exchange for the gift of Seraph’s Song,
and tho’ angel within may have died,
it is not our place to mourn,
for on that eve,
Sister Sera was born.
III – Seraph’s Song
In this fable,
the question most so oft ask,
what is the Seraph’s Song,
and how in tune,
would it help with Sister Sera’s task,
well the answer lies my king,
in the heart behind the soul’s mask.
For the song to be sung,
comes from within,
the stronger the fire,
the heat from the hearth,
then no matter where that soul has been,
in defeat,
shall lie opposing sin.
The melody of the tune,
is far from a grim syren’s squall,
yet just as hypnotic,
tho’ beautiful true,
inspiring even for one and all,
but damning in strength and potency,
when dealing with demons born of the fall.
As what is imp’s weakness,
may not be what you think,
for many imagine fire down below,
when really,
it is darkness that shrouds thick as ink,
and in that veil the Seraph’s Song,
is the only means that causes wicked armors to chink.
Such a harmony,
in all its glorious power,
can simply be sung,
by one offered such gift divine,
and tho’ others oft cower,
Sister Sera,
shall bring forth demons’ final hour.
The lone question now,
after given such a gift,
is if Sister Sera is strong enough,
to resist the temptations of past,
to let her own sins drift,
forgiven e’ermore,
as she fights right and swift.
So the Seraph’s Song,
as you can see,
can shift the tides of war,
and offer hope of salvation,
to mortals all like you and me,
if wielded true by Sister Sera,
at the cost of her own immortality.
IV – The Hunt
In truth,
the hunt started long ago,
a task taken on by hero fallen,
name now lost fore’er,
victim claimed by Tempter so,
collapse spreading darkness e’erlasting,
spanning far and low.
Yet such failure,
does Sister Sera fear not,
for her strength lies within,
in the belief in self,
not to be lured or bought,
by Tempter’s own gifts,
lessons of past learned to ne’er be forgot.
The battle ahead for our fable’s lead,
ends with Tempter true,
but starts with demons seven,
forged of separate sins,
of which Sister Sera must pursue,
or this land will be lost,
souls of men fore’er to bid adieu.
Tho’ battle there even does not end,
for demons’ followers forge an army do,
minions of the minions,
hunting the hunter,
all wanting Sister Sera defeated through and through,
as with her end,
comes damnation more than we e’er knew.
So the hunt begins,
ne’er to rest,
by star and by moon,
Sister Sera walks the lands,
searching for demons’ nest,
with trials of sin,
given ‘long the way as test.
Let it be said,
even Seraph’s Song is not enough,
if soul wavers dark,
and with Sister Sera the risk is always there,
but she battles temptation tough,
e’er ready,
to deny the Tempter’s bluff.
For knowledge of sin makes Sister Sera strong,
as merit true now courses through her veins,
awareness which leads her on task,
‘cross the world to defeat darkness’ rise,
ignoring the pains and chains,
of Tempter’s shadow,
so only virtue and light remains.
V – The Battle and the Bard
In the twilight,
of battle’s eve,
I came ‘pon Sister Sera,
as any bard would,
ready to receive,
her tale and fate,
so her story would not be lost to the sea.
That night she spoke,
her voice harmonic and pure,
of He who gave her strength,
of her charge,
to defeat Tempter sure,
to end the world of eternal grim,
to offer salvation e’ermore.
I cried as she wept,
of man’s failing hope,
in self and virtue,
of love and He,
not realizing the scope,
of the test ‘pon her feet,
unsure if I could cope.
Yet this fable is not about me,
and the next day,
Sister Sera set out to battle demons seven,
on the wings of Seraph’s Song,
fear held at bay,
silence in solitude,
leaving me ‘lone to pray.
Words alone cannot offer truth,
to the cost of battle fast,
for blood fell like rain,
as each sin fell to virtue pure,
spanning the world far and vast,
defeating each demon,
each one to the last.
And by that eve’s end,
Sister Sera stood strong and still,
atop a mountain of fiends’ flesh,
with nary a breath left within,
but having to find the will,
to push past her own torment and wounds,
to one final kill.
For the first Fallen remains,
and as she stands at his feet,
I watch from a distance,
in fear for self and her,
in fear of the world’s eternal defeat,
for on that eve and ‘pon that hill,
Sister Sera and the Tempter finally meet.
VI – Sacrifice
In that moment,
time ceased,
as Tempter scoffed in pride,
at innocence before him,
ready to feast,
‘pon Sister Sera’s soul,
for he is the damned beast.
The wind swirled,
as tempest fierce and free,
torrents strong,
by cause of Tempter’s breath,
forcing our heroine to bended knee,
pity only shown,
by her offerings of a sacrificial plea.
In that pause,
I thought all was lost,
for Sister Sera had defeat in her eyes,
and temptation was strong,
He who would be crossed,
by cause of Tempter’s own deal,
she seemingly not ready to pay the final cost.
And as Tempter laughed into his victory,
I cried at her defeat,
wondering how and why,
she could give up so easily,
lost to the Tempter’s deceit,
wanting to join the fray myself,
so we both could retreat.
But ‘fore I could move,
I then saw the truth in plan,
for Sister Sera was not done,
and as Tempter lurched,
into him she ran,
sword thrust,
as then the Seraph’s Song began.
Victory shifted next,
as light pierced the dark,
Sister Sera glowing bright,
as a brilliant star,
hope and man’s final spark,
as song and steel pierced,
fore’er leaving their mark.
But as Tempter fell,
he released his own damning moan,
wounding heroine deep,
causing eternal defeat,
and tho’ Tempter was removed from throne,
Sister Sera’s final sacrifice,
offered man salvation at the cost of her own.
VII – Ascension
In the end,
when the dust cleared,
all was silent,
and for the first time in fore’er,
she was revered,
for her sacrifice,
of forgoing what she feared.
Her body lay,
and I ran to her,
sickened by her death,
weeping true,
unsure of what next was too occur,
but then His words echoed from the sky,
to which I now refer.
“Sister Sera on this day,
you made me proud,
you succeeded in your task,
cleansing the world of Tempter’s darkness,
lifting the shroud,
putting man ‘fore self,
doing as you vowed.”
Just then,
as her blood consumed my hands,
a light from above filled her core,
mending her wounds,
as if He hearing my own demands,
for next she started to rise toward the clouds,
as if always part of His own plans.
Sister Sera then awakened,
at just that time,
and purpose of her charge,
effect of her sacrifice,
offered reason and rhyme,
for I witnessed her being saved,
and the beauty of the sight was truly sublime.
Her ascension had begun,
and angel once more received her wings,
a gift pure and true,
surrendering herself,
for all slaves and kings,
she then looks at me with a smile,
and for the final time she sings.
E’ermore I shall tell the tale of Sister Sera,
and pass it on from son to son,
for I am the bard,
and this is the fable,
finally done,
of she who sung the Seraph’s Song,
she who was the chosen one.
The End