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    dots Submission Name: Mystic Lake (rewrite)dots

    Author: Linzi
    ASL Info:    24.f.wales
    Elite Ratio:    5.91 - 80/100/94
    Words: 1455
    Class/Type: Poetry/Dark
    Total Views: 1779
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 9321

       This is a rewrite to a poem I wrote a while back. Please forgive the length, I'm debating whether or not to turn this into a short story and avoid the sing-songey meter. Let me know what you think. It was originally meant to be a story you tell to children to stop them wondering off but the poem had a mind of its own and has gotten much too dark for that lol.

    (I'm sorry I have no idea why these weird spelling things come up. It's only since I tried to edit, does anyone know how to get rid of them?)

    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsMystic Lake (rewrite)dots

    "The wages of sin is death"

    Mystic Lake

    Of an enchanted woods a legend is told
    Born of the secrets that have still to unfold,
    It offers no journey for the faint of heart
    For a happy ending may not play a part.
    Though a one way entry to every man’s dream
    Some speak of the darkness of his fabled scream;
    Endless earthly passions the forest doth bring
    But there, always dwells winter, never comes spring.

    A waxen-winged worrier - glutted with Pride
    Vowed to make the alleged temptress his bride,
    'My legend made – fates prophecy broken'
    Arachney’s fop had King Mammon spoken.
    With Asmodus' lust, and Lucifer's pride
    Into the forest on his high stead did he ride;
    Advice of the base the great King shall ignore
    For he has his lantern and weapons galore.

    In the face of the darkness he could not foresee
    The last of the leaves which fall from the high tree,
    But what he does notice becomes a surprise
    As a thick swirling mist soon starts to arise.
    Meets Mammon a man with less riches than he
    And not protected by a Royal decree,
    So, with murderous intent, the King offers wine
    Leviathan’s bane for the opposing swine.
    'A toast among equals, my good sir, drink up!'
    Said Mammon who drained the life blood from his cup,
    And before thirty seconds, opposition dropped dead
    His belly still empty of the King's promised bread.

    Then, dark grew denser - Mammon's lantern burned out
    And his proud greedy heart soon filled with self doubt,
    He possessed no weapon that through darkness could hack...
    So shadowy wall would prevent his turn back.
    Yet full, opal moon shines the milk of her ray
    Through the gaps in the trees to lead the King's way,
    And the woods fall silent, save for the wolfs howl
    'Cause the nightingale's song sets him on a prowl.

    But, when Belphegor creeps, and Der Sandman draws near
    With blatant sharp objects to stir the King’s fear;
    And when snow starts to fall and temperatures crash
    King Mammon’s black horse gallops off in a dash;
    But although the King starts, arms of gold way him down
    'Til he’s forced to strip off to his robe of brown.


    The fates of destiny are not fond of dreams
    But often delight in harsh blood curling screams,
    For rare are the virtuous where the fates take his side
    So God bless King Mammon and his glutted self pride!

    The winds of change whirl on the path to his right
    And at the end gleams a rare glimmer of light,
    Yet the path is so rocky, the winds blow too rough
    But the path to his left seems easy enough.
    Though things in the labyrinth are not what they seem
    Deceit plays its own inexplicable scheme...
    The easy way out often comes with a price
    A price which King Mammon may pay with his life.

    A twist of fortune(?) when the [monatour] king
    Hears the music of Pan - the song sirens sing;
    When silver mist glides that bitter sweet sound
    That glues Mammon's feet on to the iced ground.

    Pixey-led follower of Orpheus' stings
    Means Mammon glides closer upon his waxen wings;
    The echoing melody which weaves through the woods
    Means he cannot turn back, though he knows that he should.
    But he's led by those notes which blow in the breeze
    As the moonlight shimmers between the tall trees;
    And observing the music he's hypnotised
    With a dumbfounded look that's in his dark eyes.


    To the heart of the woods the King soon arrives
    To the place where so many have lost mortal lives,
    Yet a blossoming bush Mammon casts to one side
    Feeding to winter the last place he could hide.
    With his right mind corrupted he can so easily see
    A glamour filled lake broken off from the sea,
    But the mysterious water, that the moon orders still
    Glistens with secrets of the years yet to spill.


    A waterfall trickles so calm and serene
    Rippling the reflection of the moon's bright gleam,
    But as he looks closer he's shocked to find
    What could only be trickery, a fast failing mind?
    As ghost like maidens dwelled in the lagoon
    Watching their reflections and caught in loves swoon.
    Mammon considered, 'Did they swim in from Lethe?
    But then…surely these spirits should reside still beneath?'

    But, silver scales suddenly transferred the King's stare
    For they lay on the tail of a bonny maiden, so fair,
    And there's a deathly chill to the midnight air
    When the wind blows through the golden girl's hair.

    Then down off the rocks the fair maiden slides
    Into the deep water, so her tail she can hide,
    It's the song she sings that lured him here
    For that original desire to possess her.
    When he reveals himself [to her first success]
    With a single gesture he’s made powerless,
    For that hypnotic smile which she flashes to him
    Is especially designed to reel him in.

    So, down from the rocks on a horned branch he climbs
    Hoping both bodies will soon be entwined,
    Ignoring the dove that's long since been chained
    He listens instead to a siren well trained.
    Achilles heel's lowered in the icy cold lake
    Ignoring the pain of the bones that ache,
    And through thin ice he'll swim - he's lost his pride
    'Cause all he now wants is to be by her side.

    Mammon looks in her eyes where her gaze will impel
    Seducing his heart with a treacherous spell,
    And moving a hand onto his pale cheek
    They both will fall silent, no words left to speak.
    With her deceiving kiss the King's heart will break
    She knows full well Mammon's life's at stake,
    His body starts shaking, but the coldness he'll bare
    For he thinks this love's beyond compare.


    Now behind the scene the cold winter creeps
    Putting all creatures in to a deep sleep,
    And of this motion she's blissfully aware
    But he doesn't know and she doesn't care.

    Her notes are the stars which around the lake zoom
    Each one resting on an Agaric mushroom
    There is now only moments 'til the curse is complete
    And still Mammon is blinded in the face of defeat.
    For Mammon is standing in a vortex of doom
    In the lake of the dead, beneath a full moon,
    But there’s still one thing left for Mammon to do...
    - Take bite from the apple where all his sins brew.

    With a wave of her hand his hunger grows strong
    He knows with no food he won't last very long,
    But when the King reaches out, his body a-sway
    The food of the dead floats further away.

    The King cries out in sheer desperation
    Like so many slaves under his domination,
    But his delve in humility comes years much too late
    For his life rests now in the hands of scorned fate.
    She holds out her hand, which begins to unfurl
    And there lays an apple just like the trees burl,
    He accepts it gratefully then takes his first bite
    Before being transferred to the curses first night;
    [For inside the apple is buried the truth
    Which will sap at his life force - to add to her youth.]

    There lay the corpse of his brother's wife
    Naked and splattered in blood from the knife,
    As Mammon had taken both her body and life
    In a violent impulse of cold, jealous strife.
    His brother had searched through the day and night
    Neglecting the duties of his Royal birth right,
    But one year later he gave way to grief's plight
    And his broken heart stopped, no strength left to fight.

    The King opened his eyes to look upon her
    With tears of regret and his vision a blur,
    But her tail had vanished and she stood on the bank
    And at that moment, he knew, he must walk the ships plank.


    Now, a hundred years later the Forest's in bloom
    Since Mammon's demise and eternal doom,
    And the wood nymphs run freely, they have their own reign
    Since they dragged Mammon down to Hades' domain.
    But while left alone, they have a promise to keep
    To always use glamour to avoid human seek,
    But on the occasion, if the odd human should stray
    Be it by night fall or in the light of the day,
    They must lure those victims, just like the King
    Into the nearest Fly Argaric ring.

    Submitted on 2008-09-20 16:13:51     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!

    ||| Comments |||
      i think you have written a wonderful poem, yes it,s long(not as long as paradise lost or others)
    but it is well thought out , plenty of references to mythological characters and religious ones, which makes it an interesting read.you even have the sandman in there to.you said you started writing a story or poem to warn children not to stray from home, now it actually turns into a warning to men not to follow their lusts for all is not what it seems.and i think the king (he reminded me of hamlets father somehow)got what he deserved.why turn it into a story the rhyming and meter work really well. like an epic poem. like the person above says it gives it an extra quality.i really enjoyed the poem thanks for sharing.
    | Posted on 2008-10-19 00:00:00 | by eyeless in gaza | [ Reply to This ]
      This is absolutely beautiful and a masterpiece in the making.. I think you should keep the rhythm and rhyme to this as it adds a special quality to the story being told.. Length doesn't matter either since there are plenty of long poems out there that seem to be part short story and part poem.. If you want good examples read Edgar Allen Poe's The Raven or The Lady of Shalott (can't remember who that one is by or how to spell Shalott)
    | Posted on 2008-09-20 00:00:00 | by Maskannai | [ Reply to This ]

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