Thursday, 29 May 2014

Necromancer by Rob Mooney

High in his tower on a haunted strand
A wizard with a serpent wand
Gazed over his ensorcelled land
And upturned in a bony hand
An hourglass filled with night black sand

Beneath a mystical penumbra
To claps of cabalistic thunder
A people frozen chill as tundra
Began at last to peel asunder
Enchantments they’d been living under

Captives of theurgic rage
Enthralled in bondage to their mage
For one brief hour of every age
The wizard frees them from his cage
To let their fiendish bonds assuage

Chthonic sigils then unspell
A brief respite for those who dwell
Within the warlock’s eldritch hell
Until his occult tocsin’s knell
Begins again their hearts to quell

The wizard does this necromancy
Though its probity be chancy
To mire his subjects in a fancy
And thus impress the sorceress Nancy
To be his succuba fiancée


Winner of Flash 500 Humour Verse Competition for the First Quarter 2014

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