(a trijan refrain)
Poem by Dusty Grein
– Dusty Grein is an author, editor, graphics designer, and accredited classical poet from the
Pacific Northwest in the United States, whose goal is to tell stories and revive interest in short
forms narratives and classical style poetry.
Illustration by Parys Gardener
She pulled the knife from out her chest.
“Was that supposed to hurt?”
Her evil smile did fear impress,
and panicked thoughts assert.
What evil this, that would not die
from mortal wound? “Alas,” said I,
“What evil this?
What evil this,
with heart run though, still does not die?
“Be gone, foul witch!” My echoed scream
did naught but make her grin;
She pulled me close, and whispered “Dream…”
The room then seemed to spin.
An icy kiss, softly bestowed
upon my lips, grown deadly cold.
An icy kiss,
an icy kiss
sparked poison fire within my soul.
“Oh foolish man without the will
or faith to stand upon!
You honestly thought you could kill
me, hours before the dawn?”
The darkness calls, I must give in;
for soon my new life will begin.
The darkness calls.
The darkness calls,
and now the hunger grows within.