Author, Poet, & Wordsmith

Posts Tagged ‘death’

Goodbye

In Poetry on March 6, 2009 at 11:45 pm

Goodbye
by Jonas Hyde

 

I swallow the sorrow,
and borrow a smile,
to make it through each day,
but decay has eroded my soul,
leaving a lifeless shell,
which fell to the void,
passing through the motions,
the oceans of life,
toward the valley of death,
my breath suffocates
rapt  ‘neath this guise,
my lies become my truth,
can you see my tear,
or hear my moan,
they signal the end,
my friend hark my words,
this eve shall be my last,
the past has come to play,
so for my final cry,
a goodbye is nigh.

Seraph’s Song: The Epic Fable of Sister Sera

In Poetry, Seraph's Song on January 15, 2009 at 8:52 pm

Seraph’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

Adieu – (The final words of Gilles de Rais)

In Poetry on August 3, 2008 at 2:33 pm

Adieu – (The final words of Gilles de Rais)
by Jonas Hyde

On this eve I bid adieu,
as night’s fall does ‘proach,
and tho’ in truth I beg not to encroach,
‘pon your time or even guilt too,
for salvation I beg anew.

Curse of crime and dastardly deed,
chains my soul prisoner to this day,
for on my path I walked astray,
possessed by thirst and greed,
as to these sins and more I do concede.

Where to begin I do not know,
save to start where all tales do,
just be sure that when I am through,
you feel not pain or woe,
for this wicked garden I myself did sow.

At morn’s light I am set to die,
as the woven fibers of my crimes,
hang my body ‘till death’s bell chimes,
an eye for an eye,
so on this final night I bemoan and cry.

I go to sleep this eve knowing my fate,
fearing not the dawn,
fearing not for my sins are long forgone,
‘stead tonight I sit and wait,
for punishment deserved born of sickness and hate.

I know my soul should fear,
the coming of the end,
but it does not for I know I must amend,
to pay for crimes so severe,
for in sorrow I am sincere.

No longer do I thirst for the taste more,
of young life wetting my palate,
but my fate was sealed with the hammering of the magistrate’s mallet,
ending my sins of yore,
crimes that now even I abhor.

Instead I cry out in sorrow,
as I mourn those who fell victim to my sin,
prepare for my eternal suffering to begin,
as my ain death will come tomorrow,
a day more I cannot borrow.

Those who call me friend,
say the Tempter grabbed hold of me and has not let go,
but this I know,
the level of my sins transcend,
but hope for my salvation shall ne’er end.

Just remember I was once simply a man as you,
and this is my final farewell,
tho’ woken from the Tempter’s spell,
my crimes broke nearly every taboo,
and with every death my punishment I did accrue.

So I scribe these words in the ink of my sin,
leaving my last breath as one of hoped atonement,
and I would pray for death’s postponement,
if I knew where to begin,
but my fate is sealed and always has been.

To Him,
I beg for your arms,
to enjoy your infinite charms,
for tho’ life led was grim,
my soul yearns for the favour of your whim.

To those who fell beneath my curse,
your eternity shall be far more bountiful than mine,
tho’ do not think me to pine or whine,
or that I want you to be swayed by this verse,
as I know my life has been beyond perverse.

To those who I leave behind I offer this search,
judge me not only by my mark of madness,
for to do so would cause great sadness,
I know I had walked a path of sin with a lurch,
but consider the offerings I brought to both country and church.

Gilles de Rais is my name,
for those who know me not,
but I fear due to my deeds I shall ne’er be forgot,
tho’ let me with these words proclaim,
that I seek not to exhale the curse of blame.
Just know I was not always the monster or fiend,
your thoughts make me to be,
and even tho’ from my sins I shalln’t flee,
at any moment He could have intervened,
but guilt of consciousness was ne’er gleaned.

So continue on I did,
spreading my seed of sin for five years straight,
destroying what He did create,
and though of the lust I tried to get rid,
I hungered for what all others forbid.

Tho’ I digress for of my past there is more to tell,
intelligent in my youth,
and born into wealth by virtue and truth,
I led a life of nobility so as effect in all I did excel,
but on my ego I like not to dwell.

Let it be said,
it was not until I fell into service of the Royal Guard,
did my lust for sin grow causing my soul to be e’er scarred,
as with each kill the desire within would spread,
mesmerizing my soul betwixt pleasure and dread.

I did great good in this role it should be known,
celebrated even by the our lord and King,
to le Victorieux great triumphs I would bring,
whilst fighting ‘long-side Lady Joan,
our accomplishments and legends had grown.

I tell you this not to make myself something great,
or to make any plea impassioned,
but simply to show my evil was rationed,
that my judgment was clouded by fate,
for this sinner I myself did not want to create.

I was not always this creature,
who is now reflecting ‘pon his life,
filled with torment and strife,
I was a man who in youth wanted to be a preacher,
but instead had war as my teacher.

I was once a man of great honor and deed,
unfortunately for those who fell victim to me,
bloodlust became my life’s decree,
the succulent taste of salt and seed,
was all that would satisfy my sinful greed.

Over the next five years,
the Tempter within decided my fate,
an intimate torture to which none of you can e’er relate,
and while this countryside was gripped by their fears,
with every kill I sobbed my own silent tears.

Tho’ my secular sentence is for the cruelty ‘pon two hundred souls,
I confess before God in hopes of salvation,
in truth three times that is a truer revelation,
so here I sit as it is one of my goals,
to tell you both Tempter’s jester and King’s prince have been but two of my roles.

I am thankful to be here now,
in this room of cold dark stone,
as without it – if I were still on my own,
filling my needs I would still allow,
to this I can avow.

For with every life I took,
I had the wanton desire for two more,
as if truly the Tempter’s whore,
I ne’er would have stopped the crimes which chilled and shook,
no matter the remorse I felt – the yearning within was simply too much to overlook.

It is time now to end this script,
as I can see the hints of dawn approaching,
light ‘pon the night is encroaching,
and tho’ my freedom has been taken and stripped,
I care not if this room becomes my crypt.

For I bid this world my final goodbyes,
and in sorrow I sit,
to all my crimes I hereby admit,
but let it be known there is a man within who now cries,
a man who accepts his coming demise.

My soul feels sorrow and grief,
for bearing witness to the vile deeds of fiend,
who mirrored stares scorns back broken and demeaned,
so I hope my death is brief,
offering this world from my sins final relief.

I thank you friends far and few,
for having the strength to stop my thirst when I did not,
and I confess these sins and any others I may have forgot,
in hope of finding salvation and the grace of His hue,
so to this world I apologize – and for the final time I bid adieu…

My Death

In Poetry on January 13, 2008 at 5:39 pm

My Death
by Jonas Hyde

My Death,
I bid you hello,
welcome you to my domain,
‘fore you invite me to yours,
evermore.

Some may pray,
others may weep,
tho’ not I my friend,
those words shalln’t be whispered,
even once from my breath.

In their stead I thank you,
for not coming sooner,
for my moment,
thank you my love,
My Death.

Eternal Sleep

In Poetry on December 22, 2007 at 3:39 pm

Eternal Sleep
by Jonas Hyde

Eternal sleep
Release me from my mortal coil
Close my eyes
And let forever wash me away

I am so tired
Of all my suffering
I want to shed out all vestige of my humanity
I need to make it through this day

But I know I wont
For my soul shall be claimed by my own hand
And the wretched excuse that is my existence
Shall be nevermore as my body lay