Her Dame's Children

Her Dame's Children

A Poem by Stacie Dayton

Outside the town of Luxwick,

past the broken chain-link fence;

lies the uphill road said to unfold,

in a place most want to forget.

 

They say that the Asylum’s closed,

And the horror’s gone away;

But the children know when the sun descends,

The devils come out to play.

 

For when the moon has risen high,

And the bowels of darkness take hold;

Tis then one can hear the maddening cry,

Of the events from so long ago.

 

The doctors they were searching,

For a way to “fix” the insane;

But experiments always go array,

When done on a healthy brain.

 

It changed them then- the falsely accused,

And true monster they became;

Left to wander the halls at night,

Imprisoned by their Dame.

 

Under her watchful order,

Down to the town they went;

Lurking in and out of homes,

Abducting as they went.

The deed was quite simple,

No subjugates older than twelve;

And one by one then enslaved returned,

Her dark desires were met.

 

Now the townspeople they were furious,

Surely the doctors were to blame;

So up they marched to the Asylum,

Determined to stake their claim.

 

They greeted the horror with silent screams,

And wild hysterics abound;

For the doctors had long been dead,

Their amputations strewn about.

 

‘Twas then that the Demon Queen cackled,

As her army flanked at her sides;

And the townspeople fled in terror,

Vowing revenge in their stride.

 

Eyes lit up with vengeance,

As the flames licked at the sky;

They knew the nightmare was over,

That nothing could survive.

 

But in the weeks that followed,

The town was taken by surprise;

One by one the stolen returned,

With nothing changed but their eyes.

The wondrous luster of youth stripped away,

Replaced now by barren hallows;

And once in a while one would wear,

A devilishly twisted smile.

 

Naïve to the deception,

Each family did rejoice;

Until one by one tragedy befell,

As Father Death took his course.

 

Now under the nightly moon,

The orphaned children gather;

Eyes aglow as black as coal,

Awaiting the voice of their master.

 

 

© 2016 Stacie Dayton


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Added on June 17, 2016
Last Updated on June 17, 2016

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