writing Comedy of the Twin Valleys

[KakeiTheWolf 652]

Ordinarily, I make poems in Lucidia Console, a monospaced font. Many poems I made have the unique prose of having every single line be the exact same width (Meaning the same amount of characters). I finally found a font on the forums that is monospaced, so that means I can put some of those spiffy poems down.

 

The first notable one I used this in is this one: Comedy of the Twin Valleys. Despite a tremendously grim overtone, it is indeed a comedy, because I make comedies and tragedies in the old sense, not the theatrical sense. The story is very similar to Fear Turned Freedom, but it is far more archaic in its wording. However, the woman in this story is not named. This story, like Fear Turned Freedom, is an interpretation of the trials and tribulations my own life consisted of. Without further ado, here it is,

 

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XVI. Comedy of the Twin Valleys

 

I came from a land of hatred, a sick and cruel land, aflowing monsters and malice and horror

I lay on my back as daemon razed my back with their claws, terror and despondence in my eyes

Nephilim came, disgusting chimera of knived backs and horrible razor maws, my waking torture

Everything was torture, that my soul became a shell, beaten and razed by the caitiffs always

 

Wone had I in slum, vicious cesspool of vapid, beastly filth that did violence inexpressable

Twixt about my jaws and teeth were vines of thorn, and nails were driven through mine tongue

They laced my back with barbed wire, and drove knives into my back and stake in my own hands

Wrapped was a chain around my throat, that my life was not to them a choke enough apparently

 

I was to crawl the lands on all fours, foaming as if a beast, my mind given no mercy or love

Forced by daemons to gnaw earth and grass, biting the metal as it bled my life from me whole

I was in a nightmare, no salve or boon could ever come, and I prayed those bitter pains stop

My blood was stone, and I died, a monster in the grave, marrow flowing bitterly when I spake

 

Then, I saw the first, as the slightest glorious aura of light and I saw those truths hidden

I went, crawling through the sanguine river my shackles and chains had sate the grounds with

Something called, as I climbed the crags, and ventured through dolorous fire and hatred pure

I asked myself this, "Could so kind God be, that my fate be not of this, rather, I to live?"

 

So great, O Lord, that thou hast blessed me to see this path, not to wone in Inferno forever

So I climb, for a song greater than this pulled me to the Aether, among the clouds and birds

Light pour in my eyes, as I knew it never, and still as I bled in horror, I went on, in hope

Only could I believe that you ordained greatness, not to not among those sadistic hellhounds

 

Clamber, did I, into the other side, the valley no longer of Death, but boon of nature, Life

I believed not what I saw, the most beautiful thing ever made, a truly unbelievable splendor

I could not understand, why a wretch, a louse, a Cain-stricken man like me could be saved so

What could I have done, I know not, I only went to see her, that I may see as last leaves me

 

I came, and so did she take my hand, and help me up, peasant and churl I am blessed by angel

Took she, pity on me, for from my core I bled from chain and thorn of my ruination, my hurts

She take my cup, and freed me from daemon's bind, and so my eyes saw love, it was mercy true

I was asked the reason, and I said only, "The daemon vicegrip is strong, forever its bound."

 

Afraid, was I, for always had I been hurt, but she only smiled and grasped my hand, I saw it

The answer was true, how could I be so naive, I never saw but dark, but she lifted the hazes

Mist and marsh, miasma and malice, all left as all came to me, for I was, I now lived, I saw

The reason I never had lived was truly because I had nothing worth fighting for before light