Sinister, sinuous script in black ink, rows and rows flow, mesmerising...

  • The letters appear, black and glistening, like the wet smudge of a first taint upon a child's hitherto innocent face. The revelation of the darker side of the world, a passage down into a deeper shade. The letters appear, in the old town where thuds of beatings are felt through the stone. In the citadel, where goodwives carry baskets with bread still warm. They ooze comfort... and menace.


    Nyanth comes
    When bonds of the world weaken
    When gates open unbidden
    The weavings fall apart
    We clutch tight to old gods
    Their hands tremble, they tire
    Of stemming the tide
    Nyanth comes
    To save us from harm
    From bones chewed while we are alive
    From torment of boiling iron
    From endless fall through barbed wires
    Nyanth comes
    Her breath stills our pain
    Struggling to open the door
    She whispers plea for aid
    To those who seek
    Rescue from damnation unending

Log in to reply