Prompt Day #347: Why have the monsters assembled and what are they outraged about?
I am really loving this homage to The Raven and Lovecraft and I want to finish it but I want to do it properly and I have reached the limits of my endurance after a 30-some hour shift in OB and a couple hours on this poem (counting syllables and mimicking alliterations). I think I’ve reached a good break point, but when I do finish it, I will try to post it.
EP Meets HP
Once upon a winter evening, as I wrote my next-in-series
A novel filled with monsters from the classic, gothic days of yore
While I sat there, swiftly tapping, suddenly there came a flapping
As if leathered wings were smacking, smacking wet with blood and gore
“Tis some fantasy” I shuddered “rising from my morbid core—
It must be that and nothing more.”
How well my writer’s mind remembers dreaming up some man-like horrors
And each anthropomorphic creature was much like the ones before
Anxiously, I feared the vision;–of amorphous devils driven
To congregate amongst the living—giving something to abhor
Of a race of eldritch demons assembled now outside my door
Their very essence I deplored.
And the charnel chill of Charon swooped in like a dusky heron
Felled me—held me with Golgothic terrors never known before
So that now, I stood there staring, too afraid to face the glaring
From the mass beyond me chanting of my ethnocentric lore
Outraged by their poor describing in my ethnocentric lore
They were breaking down the door.
Presently, I gained momentum, as I tried to circumvent them
“Beasts” said I, “or creatures, your presence here, I can’t endure
Your frightening inhumanity, threatens me with such insanity
That I cannot bear a visage so unlike me” I implored.
There was silence—nothing more.