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The Harvester (standard:poetry, 1117 words)
Author: WalkerAdded: Feb 23 2012Views/Reads: 1527/1129Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The subject is love, and the power of love... the poetry is in the power and to understand this poem one should open his mind to the the realm of dreams within which anything occurs, prevails, or dominates.



The clock strikes twelve and moon drops burst, Out yonder from their
hiding place, Each breath suffocates, reason tends to fly away, This 
life the harvester forsakes, Been cheated of youth, only anger and 
misery, Every lie he is convinced as the truth. 

The harvester, receiver of pain, Let the punishment begin... 

A beautiful girl of fifteen walks the field, Reflecting innocence, a
brother the only shield, Everyday the devils wait, how much longer To 
feed on the bait, the beauty and the body Keep incrementing the hunger 
And one fateful night the thread severs. 

Hungry pleasure seekers, feeding off the weaker, Lunacy breeding within,
howl at the door, ‘Drink up, shoot in, distribute the pain, Don't 
bother their loss, enjoy our gain.' 

‘What you say are forgotten thoughts of yesterday, How much can your
money buy? It is beyond your control to rule our fate, If life becomes 
a shame we will just slit and die.' 

Laughing and talking the language of the mad, The harvester realized the
situation he had, Hungry and sore, no resistance to pour, Outnumbered 
and beaten he was tied to the door, The poor sister was striped of her 
pride, And the mother was burned alive, The harvester was left scarred 
all over, wounds deep and neat, And this slaughter to them smelled so 

As the harvester sits in a smoke filled room, The night about to end,
everyone acting strange, A helping hand none ready to lend, Frozen 
emotions and words like ice, no tears cried, Hours of wait, at last 
courtesy arrives Someone helps him come undone, The harvester turns his 
face away from the questions, The death is visible on the surface, And 
the screams are audible underneath, A sullen glance of what's left, A 
last look over the theft, And the final rituals are performed, The 
straw hut of the harvester is burned. 

The death results in the loss of reason in the head, ‘Revenge now is
sought even if blood is shed, I'll battle constantly and kill all who 
conspired, Split each to the bone and make the fall, Take my time and 
subdue all.' 


The sun has gone down, the lamp is whining, The darkness is now
taunting, ‘Oh lord! The slaughter blended with carnage has torn me 
apart, I have lost the smile I carried in my heart, When I served 
everyone was nice, It's now time to kill, make them pay the price, So 
grant me thy powers so I can prove my bravery, I pray thee for thy 

A clap of thunder breaks the silence, Satan arrives and the harvester is
audience, ‘I am evil, yes I am, But lord won't help you, only I can, 
Your desire to avenge thyself is what I see, I'll make you a warlock if 
you agree to serve me, No one will dare to look or glance your way, 
Your reputation will go before your stay, Like a spirit you'll 
disappear at will, Many will claim of things but none will see you 

‘My soul is longing for and I await my revenge, I want the times to come
when souls are heard, And I never want these wicked skies to get 

‘You are mine...' 

Walking by the night the harvester arrives at the gates, A long black
coat covers the body, hands shielded with blades, All the bats start to 
leave the trees, they're joining the call, This one satanic hell 
preacher heads for the hall, Using demon eyes he erases all that comes 
his way, The harvester now is the predator and the residents are prey, 
With evil glee and pride he starts the sacrifice, All the followers 
carouse with blood stained wings, Every mortal is slewed with single 

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