The Herald: Parts I-III

Made some improvements last night, starting with the opening two lines. Looks like I have another growing literary masterpiece on my hands. I: The Herald Archangelo embarked in a condition of control Ordained the vain front runner on the footpath to his goal Of sovereign authority, his order bore the name A package to deliver and a warning to proclaim He'd been adhering to the line amounting to his norm When of a vital matter did a fleeing girl inform Whose father was a locksmith and the target of a sack That left her with an item that the King expected back A traitor to the royal court, the Duke of Pitch had struck To bring affairs-of-state's delay as his men ran amuck Without the precious envelope that held the royal seal The king could not his might invoke to make the bandit kneel The herald was convinced by her and let himself supplant To navigate through areas a child likely can't Allowing her sufficient leave for family's concern As he alone attended to the property's return Assured by the position of the low, traversing sun He sought the shortest path across the lands the Duke had won The wear of cruel dictatorship was in its early stage A shadow closing in as from the turning of a page By evening, he found refuge in a bleak and cheerless inn Whose keeper seemed to welcome with a condescending grin The serpent that awaited underneath his slender bed Had fangs that sprayed a venom strong enough to leave him dead He managed to contain it by his blanket's timely throw And from the exit least surveyed, succeeded, out to go For sleeping quarters he would have to settle for a glade And let the evening sky extend its drowse inducing shade He drifted to oblivion, surrendering to need And feeling only temporarily, of danger, freed Whatever hurdles lay across his solitary flight Would have to wait at least until the passing of the night II: The Posse A cast of sordid characters converged in hot pursuit The royal stamp presented an attractive piece of loot Three predators intent on intercepting the stray scout Imagined what he'd look like with his hide turned inside out They traveled through the shadows with superior finesse Sufficiently provisioned and assured of their success United by a common and carnivorous desire But each too centred on the self to totally conspire Untypical was Antipath of men who worked for Pitch Instead of breaking out of jail, he crawled out of a ditch He lined the road behind him with the pockmarks of his pike As with the hunted courier, he tried to think alike The product of invasion's most notorious affairs He'd been discovered by the bears and raised as one of theirs They taught him how to wrestle and to hollow out a hole Among the civilized, he sunk to fill the lowest role His fellow fiend, de Bauch, would from another corner stalk The witnesses against him were too terrified to talk His fervency for violence propelled him well along Inspired by the kill to come, he broke into a song Towards the lost and frightened girls, he was no longer led In favour of a victim with a bounty on his head To sate his mad, sadistic thirst, he'd crucify and maim Dismissing every screaming plea with neither grief nor shame Young Malady, their trailing mate, kept her beguiling face Sagaciously reserved for the most advantageous place With simpering magnificence, she rounded out the crew From whom the wise Archangelo intensively withdrew Fixated on their roving prize, towards his camp they went With Antipath the first to find it, following the scent The dawn was just upon him and the smoke still in the air The wild paths his prey had walked would show their signs of wear III: The Savages A feeling of foreboding kept the messenger away From deep uncharted regions where the savages would stay Beyond the mounted skulls that marked the bounds of their domain Lay knowledge that Archangelo had no wish to obtain A sportsman, talkative and proud, from round a hill, emerged And joined him where the currents, to the outermost, diverged From there the two would separate, the sportsman cutting through Ancestral grounds the more informed declined to cross into A hail of arrows fell upon the reckless pioneer Who'd shunned the threat his cautious friend had proven right to fear His anguished cry went out to join the jackal's distant call And keen was the survivor to avoid his own downfall Behind him lumbered Antipath, with sense of smell acute Whose mastery of the outdoors was never in dispute Determined to collect on a superlative reward He closed in on the runner and his vigour was restored The foliage was flattened by his overwhelming weight A force he would employ to overcome and dominate The duke would make him general and put him in command His grunt would be, among the men, the word to understand From dark and unfamiliar wood, the danger was revealed When suddenly was needed the protection of his shield He stumbled backwards into an immobilizing trap Observed by his own target from a reasonable gap Archangelo descended from the branch where he had hid Delighted to be fully, of the lurking menace, rid Abandoning the stranded brute to, from a swarm, defend He left for new surroundings on which he could more depend Throughout a lonely hamlet, he could only find a stall To stretch out and recover in before the night would fall As in the grim horizon grew a dark, malignant blotch Distinctively embodied by the person of de Bauch (to be continued)
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© 2007, 2016. Verses by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.