The Devil’s Gauntlet
written by: Ken Allan Dronsfield
Whatever forces upon the season,
perhaps tis you that are the reason,
the man of dark shadowed pallor
limps down a dark lane to the cellar.
With help of an old-burled cane,
with such an unequivocal refrain.
The wispy glow of twilight’s dawn
bears witness to the shuffling pawn.
A gauntlet fell from quivering hands
landing on the floor in muck and sands.
Grasping it tight, I watched rainbows fly
as the lights echoed in a brackish sky.
Blink once for yes and twice for no;
thrice then whisper behind a shadow.
Tears fall as your ears throb and bleed
in a vermillion hue, righteous of deed.
The soft muffled steps are unheard
during incantations of deedless words.
Mesmerizing twilight steals my gaze
as lonely crows flutter in a stellar haze.
Waltz round the fire on all hallows eve
stands there watching; then a scream
there, now appears the loathsome devil
we whisper softly, “I will fear no evil.”
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