Post by darkaus on Oct 16, 2007 10:30:03 GMT -8
Okay, this is fan poetry based off of Clive Barkers Hellraiser. I wanted to see if I would write a poem based around one of the series' main characters. I'll put the quotes in quotations. "Quote."
To ease any confusion for anyone unfamiliar with Hellraiser, here's what's up. The poems speaker is a sado-masochistic demon who tends to preach to his victims. He is summoned by opening a puzzle box. He is speaking to someone who has opened said box.
Leviathan is who the speaker works for. The ... that appears between statements is the person the demon is addressing speaking back to him. That should cover the bases! I of course make no money from this or anything.
"Oh, it’s unbearable, isn’t it? The suffering of strangers, the agony of friends…"
Yes, there lies truth which never changes, and a pleasure which never ends.
"….we have always been here,
So please, feel free, explore."
I did wait for you to open the box; I will wait a little more…
"There is a song at the center of the world…
Its sound is like razors through flesh..."
Can you hear it? …No?
No I did not think so.
In an age when so few do…
Why should the privileged one be you?
Still, "Listen…you can hear the faint echoes of it now…"
Shall I turn up the volume? Press your face into the song you will not hear?
Into the black blood that is your own dark heart?
No, no tears don’t let them start.
You have no need for them now,
They will fall as we "tear your soul apart."
…
…burn in hell? Is that the only response I inspire?
Oh child, there is so much more to hell than fire!
"Such a limited imagination" you have;
But soon you will see,
"Pain has a face… "
That face lives in me.
…
…No, "It is not the hands that call us…"
Hands are nothing, veins, bones, skin and mesh…
Insignificant, "we have an eternity to know your flesh."
To learn the hidden secrets which make you cry,
Whine, shriek, whimper, groan and sigh…
Beg, and moan, and plead…
Oh I will enjoy making you bleed…
"You opened the box," summoned us here,
We did not call ourselves--
What, will you run?
"Oh spirited, oh good, oh very good…"
You were going to fight, I knew you would,
But the battle is already won.
Ah the young,
"So eager to play, so unwilling to admit it."
Run, race, but the walls remain,
Wherever you flee the lament will refrain,
Did you think to lose Leviathan in his own domain?
Now, I see you realize…
You are in your own hell, and "this is not for your eyes."
But "we have such sights to show you…"
…
No child.
No feeble protests, no searching glares.
No lasting hope, no holier than thou airs,
No plot twist to save you, no puzzle box to aid you,
Nothing, but razors and flesh…
The clacking of the woven links…
Far from the one that made you;
"Do I look like I care what God thinks?"
…
No more arguments, or bargains,
Your time, is done.
…And we have only just begun…
…Oh guard well your children, mortal mothers…
And watch your husbands and their brothers…
Least they stumble on a puzzle box,
That calls forth "demons to some...
Angels, to others."
To ease any confusion for anyone unfamiliar with Hellraiser, here's what's up. The poems speaker is a sado-masochistic demon who tends to preach to his victims. He is summoned by opening a puzzle box. He is speaking to someone who has opened said box.
Leviathan is who the speaker works for. The ... that appears between statements is the person the demon is addressing speaking back to him. That should cover the bases! I of course make no money from this or anything.
"Oh, it’s unbearable, isn’t it? The suffering of strangers, the agony of friends…"
Yes, there lies truth which never changes, and a pleasure which never ends.
"….we have always been here,
So please, feel free, explore."
I did wait for you to open the box; I will wait a little more…
"There is a song at the center of the world…
Its sound is like razors through flesh..."
Can you hear it? …No?
No I did not think so.
In an age when so few do…
Why should the privileged one be you?
Still, "Listen…you can hear the faint echoes of it now…"
Shall I turn up the volume? Press your face into the song you will not hear?
Into the black blood that is your own dark heart?
No, no tears don’t let them start.
You have no need for them now,
They will fall as we "tear your soul apart."
…
…burn in hell? Is that the only response I inspire?
Oh child, there is so much more to hell than fire!
"Such a limited imagination" you have;
But soon you will see,
"Pain has a face… "
That face lives in me.
…
…No, "It is not the hands that call us…"
Hands are nothing, veins, bones, skin and mesh…
Insignificant, "we have an eternity to know your flesh."
To learn the hidden secrets which make you cry,
Whine, shriek, whimper, groan and sigh…
Beg, and moan, and plead…
Oh I will enjoy making you bleed…
"You opened the box," summoned us here,
We did not call ourselves--
What, will you run?
"Oh spirited, oh good, oh very good…"
You were going to fight, I knew you would,
But the battle is already won.
Ah the young,
"So eager to play, so unwilling to admit it."
Run, race, but the walls remain,
Wherever you flee the lament will refrain,
Did you think to lose Leviathan in his own domain?
Now, I see you realize…
You are in your own hell, and "this is not for your eyes."
But "we have such sights to show you…"
…
No child.
No feeble protests, no searching glares.
No lasting hope, no holier than thou airs,
No plot twist to save you, no puzzle box to aid you,
Nothing, but razors and flesh…
The clacking of the woven links…
Far from the one that made you;
"Do I look like I care what God thinks?"
…
No more arguments, or bargains,
Your time, is done.
…And we have only just begun…
…Oh guard well your children, mortal mothers…
And watch your husbands and their brothers…
Least they stumble on a puzzle box,
That calls forth "demons to some...
Angels, to others."
