The Whore and the Horror

By Paradoxology

~ The Whore and the Horror ~
(In memory of Sharon Tate and her son...“Mother...mother”)

An archaeologist working alone discovers the ancient burial chamber of
an 18th Dynasty Egyptian prostitute. However, he should have deciphered
the hieroglyphics above the entrance, before he stepped inside...

Enter the gates of her treacherous terror
Staining the wings of a dove to be damned
Liquefied scarlet, the harlot’s apparel
Drained from the throat of an innocent lamb

Enter the tomb of her horrified glory
Swarming with maggots, and hearts on a shelf
Gleaned from the gore on the ground all around her
Torn from a thousand men, dead where they fell

Enter the bed of an unwedded mother
Undraping chains of unbreakable force
Moment by moment from one to the other
Unfaded beauty returned to her corpse

Enter the lorn into mortified horror
Laying before her, he breathed in her face
Prophecies told he would come to restore her
Saying another would bleed in her place

Enter the realm of unbearable pleasure
Drawn from a bond of unparalleled pain
Lost was her lover condemned to the nether
Gone was the love from the whore she became

Enter the plagues in a scroll long forsaken
Came like a storm to her body possessed
Firstborn was taken, for God or for Satan?
Slain by the sword of the angel of death

Enter the warmth of his skin to remind her
Gently his hand traced the scar on her side
Sent to a prison and sentenced to die there
Meant to remember, her eyes opened wide

Enter the depths of despair unabandoned
Wishing the coldness his soul could replace
Robes of a killer flowed down all around him
Liquefied scarlet, the harlot’s embrace

Enter the doom of the one she was touching
Blind to the shining stiletto she held
Specters of gloom found him clutching at nothing
Eyes on the exit light, dead where he fell

Enter the rest of his time in her hell

Enter his name in the slot by the cell

...or maybe, maybe he already knew what the hieroglyphics meant, and
that was the very reason why he stepped inside. And maybe he discovered
her burial chamber because it was the very place he had been searching for,
from the day he heard her dying cry for help in his heart, and chose to follow.

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2017 Paradoxology
Published on Wednesday, October 11, 2017.     Filed under: "Structured" and "Poetry"
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Comments on "The Whore and the Horror"

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  • worm On Friday, October 13, 2017, worm (1552)By person wrote:

    well now... this certainly grabs you by the throat and shakes you around a bit, now doesn't it? deep thoughts here! ~worm~

  • Kaiser Black On Thursday, October 12, 2017, Kaiser Black (1404)By person wrote:

    Wow. This was intense. Not much more I can say other than well written.

  • Paradoxology On Friday, October 13, 2017, Paradoxology (15)By person wrote:

    Thanks...for me intensity in a poem is achieved through careful rhyming/assonance and meter, which I would compare to drums and bass in a melodic rock song which support the melodies and vocals (and therefore the words and the message in those words) and if done right greatly enhances their power and beauty. In a poem there's no audible music, so this “rhythm section” has to come from somewhere if you want this enhancing effect.

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