Crime on the Moor

Dusk was falling. Blackened clouds stretched across the sky, casting a dark shadow over the world. Coils of mist danced like fire, writhing like snakes around her feet. Her frail body, that appeared so delicate and fragile, fought bitter against the cruel wind. With quivering fingers she pushed back a lock of hair from her white cheek. Stumbling along the rock strewn path she strained her eyes, trying to pick out the church tower from all the other shadows, hazy and indistinct. The wind stung her face and tugged at her flimsy clothes. She could hear the faint hum of the village in the distance and, yet again, searched the horizon for the prominent silhouette of the church tower.

She had lost her way over an hour ago when the mist rose, and had lost all sense of direction when darkness fell. She often walked on the moors, alone and free, laughing at the days that lay before her. But today she had come out later than usual and drifted into a world of solitary fantasy; gazing at a fiery splash of colour in the sky and watching it dissolve into nothing with a sinking, crimson globe. That was when the mist came, silent as the coming of spring that stayed only for a season then drifted to some other lonely abode. Panic didn’t set in at first but now she was beginning to feel uneasy and her heart beat faster at the sound of the wind, whistling through the heather, scattering the small stones at her feet. She quickened her step and continued, discovering paths she never even knew existed, travelling further and further from her invisible goal, deeper into the bleak night. The mist began to clear in places and as the clouds were ripped apart the silver rays of the moon cast an eerie light on the moor and inflicted a glow of terror in her tear filled eyes. Above her the sky was studded with stars, glinting at her through the windswept night.

She had been walking for ages and her feet ached with every step. She was cold and tired and longed to be back at home, dozing in front of the fire. She sank to the ground and huddled beneath an overhanging rock; shivering slightly as the wind pervaded the very core of her heart. Though its ferocious roar no longer echoed in her head and even appeared to calm down.

Having gained her strength she rose and her eyes settled on the path beneath her, uneven and muddy. As she was on the verge of resuming her eternal walk home she heard a noise in the distance and glancing hurriedly behind her, caught the glimpse of a figure emerging from the mist. As a sudden burst of terror subsided she considered accompanying the stranger to wherever fate might lead them but decided she felt safer alone. Hoping she had not been seen, she continued on.

As time passed she began to feel uneasy and stopped to gather her courage. She heard a footstep behind her, rustling the wind distorted heather. But the path she was treading was empty and she was alone. She carried on and once again heard breath like footsteps following those of her own. Walking faster than before she lost herself in the misty darkness of the night, silent and still. Behind her a careless foot scattered stones into the heather. She stopped suddenly and her head rang with deafening silence. She slowly looked around, her cheeks glistening with tears as she gazed upon bleak, empty landscape. In one panic stricken moment she froze and remained rooted to the spot. After what seemed like hours she shivered slightly and having decided it was only her imagination playing tricks with her, and set off again.

Although still shaky, gradually the cobwebs of fear were swept away and left lingering in the air behind her. In the stillness of the night she heard the distinct snap of a twig, shattering the tranquillity of her mind. In a frenzy of fear she blinded her vision with tears and threw herself on the ground, blocking out the sight of emptiness, hiding in the blackness. She heard someone walk past her and felt a shadow cast over her. She held her breath, afraid that the very beating of her heart would give her away. Slowly raising her eyes she saw the same dark figure become enveloped in the wispy mist. She rested her head on her arms and let out a sigh of relief. It was all over now. He was gone. For a moment she wanted to follow him, but her own fear forced to her to go in the opposite direction, back along the path that held scattered memories and unwanted vivid revivals of the barely forgotten past. Still walking fast and humming softly to herself she tried to banish the terror that still lingered in her mind. For a second she heard the rhythmic, fear evoking steps behind her. She increased her pace, as did her pursuer. She broke into a desperate run, followed by rippling peals of laughter.

She twisted her ankle on the rocky path, but hobbled on, never stopping to glance behind. She tripped and fell. Pulling herself up again she felt all her strength draining from her, but dragged herself on; gradually increasing her pace as the mild rest took its effect. She heard heavy breathing behind her, felt the warmth of it on her neck, tried to run faster but only seemed to get slower and slower. Her arm a jerked backwards and on turning she beheld a ghostly white face with dark, staring eyes and an evil smile. She trembled with fear and rubbed her aching shoulder. Seeing the glint of a blade in the dark she let out an ear piercing scream, but there were no ears for it to fall on; and as her plaintive cries were silenced a strip of light in the east cast a shadow of the church tower over her sleeping body.

Caller of the Night

He stole her away in the night
When the moon hung low in the sky
And it seemed the whole world was asleep
Unaware of death's wandering eye.

Like the Black Knight facing a battle
He fought, and conquered her life.
And nobody stirred in their slumber
When she succumbed to death that night.

The night remained silent and still
As her breathing quietly ceased.
She abides with a power that kills
But we pray she will slumber in peace.

She floats through dark chambers of death
Like a cloud in search of the sun,
And thinks this must be the end.
The ending has only begun.

She could feel death standing behind her
And all that he looks at dies.
But in turning to hide from his glare
Beheld sockets containing no eyes.

A skull with a cynical smile,
A reaper excelled in his art.
Though his soul was drowned beneath black
You could tell that blood dripped from his heart.

He towers over the world,
The power that life can't defeat.
Like fire, fear danced and unfurled
With the coils of mist at his feet.

And all around him was darkness
And parody of human fate.
She saw a glow in the distance called heaven
And fled from his prison of hate.

The Disease of Life

Life is a fatal illness.
It always ends in death.
Once you know you've got it
You don't know how long you've got left.
It kills everyone it touches.
The old men and the young.
Death's the only way to stop your life once it's begun.

Life is unpredictable.
It's killing all the time.
Death will come along one day
And take this life of mine.
Until they find a cure
Immortality's a lie.
Everyone upon this earth, each one is doomed to die.

Life's a losing battle.
A fight you can't survive.
God's the only doctor
Who can find a cure for life.
But those who follow God believe
(Worldwide it is the same)
That life is not destroyed in death, it's simply born again.

Goodbye

It's over.
You've said the last goodbye.
Took green from grass and blue from sky
And silent words I'd left unsaid.
A letter wouldn't change things now -
You can't write letters to the dead.
Goodbye

You took my life with you
While leaving me behind
In empty days and empty rooms and empty state of mind,
To beg in vain from moon and sky.
And it's so hard to turn away
When you're trying not to cry.
Goodbye.

I see you in my dreams
But dreams are lies.
Dreams let people live again if anybody dies.
Yet real life is not so kind
However hard we try.
The word is always on our mind,
Goodbye

People and Places

Hastings, the place where battles were fought,
But a few miles along from its shore
Was a small suburbian seaside resort
That isn't there anymore.

In the season of heat it was crowded
As people battled in sun and in sea,
And seagulls flew overhead
In an envious state of free.

No escape from the music of laughter
Nor the rhythmic flow of the waves.
People sat on the beach each year after,
Not knowing they sat on their graves.

The old men walked slowly along
While the children ran gaily ahead.
The old simply smiled and looked back on their youth
When everything worth saying had been said.

Now it's hard to believe it was like that.
The buildings are meek and yet wise.
They saw the years coming and going
But through the visitors eyes.

The pub stands alone in its silence.
Not swamped by an unruly crowd.
The sea is quietly creeping away,
Too ashamed to be loud.

It's empty, the silence is daunting.
Empty houses look hostile and mean.
There are sounds from the church that are haunting
And the waves wash away what has been.

You can return to the towns of your past,
Try to re-capture those people and places
Only to find that all, all are gone,
The old, familiar faces.

To Be or Not To Be

She sat on the window ledge, hugging her knees to her. She looked down at the terrace below, vertigo setting in. He entered the room, his eyes sad. ‘Don’t’ he whispered, ‘please don’t’. She looked at him, her mind racing. How could he ever understand how she felt, how could he ever know what she had been through, the traumatic pain she has borne, the tears of blood she had shed. How could he ever know?

Due to her innate sense of secrecy there was a valley of misunderstanding between them, a valley that only she could bridge. She trusted him, yet could not confide in him, could not abolish the darkness that held them apart. Her tears were useless now. Her intrepid nature was gone. Hope had become nothing more than a dream, a dream that she would never forget. The past didn’t matter, it was over. For her, life was over though she tried to keep it going and destroy the barrier that cut her off from the outside world.

It had to be done alone, the job of finding her heart and soul, finding out what she lived for – for she did live for something. Everyone did, but most didn’t know, they just let it be. But not her. She was more than anyone could have imagined. Many threads tied her together and if one broke she was lost, lost to the love on which she thrived, lost forever in an eternal valley of darkness where only she was the lamp to light the way. Lost.

He would have appreciated her point of view and respected he opinion but she remained silent. There was only one thing left to say. ‘Goodbye’. It was said with tenderness but with a firmness that produced no argument.

He stood there, paralysed, as she gracefully swung her legs off the window ledge. There was a deathly silence which ended abruptly as she shattered on the terrace below.

Solitude

 

The solitude of life does lie
Far beneath a darkening sky
Where the end is never nigh
And no evil can protrude.
Where people laugh and never cry -
There is solitude.

Living alone without a friend,
No place your love and care to send,
No social functions to attend;
Unfrequented and unremoved.
Living like that until the end -
That is solitude.