The threat Remains for friend Donald

storypoem

The threat remains.

As twilight fall across the sea.
A fog was drifting steadily
Towards the shore and threatening
that it would swallow everything.

A clammy cold persistent mist
which seemed unnatural to me.
Some evil which should not exist
which was approaching rapidly.

I'm not afraid, I'm terrified
that in the fog strange creatures hide
.I have a strong presentiment
I'm certain it's malevolent.

The local legends linger on.
Strange tales from times which are long gone.
Stories I held to be untrue
but now I'm not sure that I do.

I am no longer confident
that modern man is competent
to deal with angers he can't see.
Lured into false security

reliant on technology.
But we still sense subconsciously
When something does not seem quite right
and we prepare for flight or fight.

I would much rather run away
but something forces me to stay
I am entranced or hypnotised
my limbs completely paralysed.

And as I watch it comes ashore
as it has often done before.
To wreak the vengeance of the sea
upon the land so silently.

That no one knows until it's gone
that it has been and what it's done
Whole villages have disappeared
because the fog has commandeered.

The population forcibly
and carried them beneath the sea.
Leaving no witnesses behind
no evidence for men to find.

to try and solve the mystery.
Abandoned houses by the sea
but not one living soul remains,
no single witness to explain.

But this time it is different
I'm forced to watch the whole event.
Although there's nothing I can do
the village disappears from view.

The mist engulfs it easily.
The silence is what frightens me.
No cries of distress or alarm
just an all pervading calm.

Was it by luck, pure happenstance
an accidental circumstance.
I chose to take a moonlight stroll
to watch the breakers as they roll.

Towards the shore from out at sea
in procession ceaselessly.
I do not know but I believe
I was intended to perceive.

The creeping fog come from the sea
engulf the village silently.
So I could then bear witness
to the fact the ancient tales are true.

Though when I try to testify
they think I'm mad or that I lie.
Why should I lie what could I gain
I ask but they cannot explain.

Interviewed by psychiatrists
my "delusion" still persists
I stick to what I know I saw
I will remember evermore.

But they insist on treating me
as I if had some malady.
Some mental illness they can cure
and so they keep me in secure

accommodation I don't need.
In case one day I might succeed
in proving that my story's true
and that of course would never do.

They dare not check past history
which would resolve the mystery.
If they researched the local lore
they'd find the fog has struck before

though not in living memory.
They are afraid to set me free.
I know they know I'm not insane
but that I will repeat again.

The story which I know is true
a story they don't want me to.
They much prefer to rationalise
to justify their blatant lies.

They have no explanation
of where the villagers have gone.
So they misuse authority
because they do not want be

seen to lack efficiency
So they sit back complacently.
Convinced they have successfully
prevented all publicity.

But they will find it is not so
for relatives will want to know.
What happened to their kith and kin
and then the witch hunt will begin.

Eventually they'll get to me
I will regain my liberty
I will be allowed to tell my tale.
Despite their efforts they will fail.

I will repeat my evidence
just what I saw no more no less.
Although it seems to make no sense.
It is the truth nevertheless.

Authorities claim to protect
the public as they ought to do
It is a claim which I reject
If you believe me you will too.

16-Feb-09
http:// blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

Reviews

[Nik Dendera]

"I am no longer confident
that modern man is competent
to deal with angers he can't see.
Lured into false security "

That stanza just jumped out at me. Rings scarily true, and as you say in the start of the next stanza, we're too reliant on technology.

This is a brilliant poem, excellent wording and you paint such vivid pictures. "Although it seems to make no sense. It is the truth nevertheless." That old saying, the truth is stranger than fiction. Probably why we so happily reject honesty-lies are so much easier to digest.

A great piece-just what I needed this morning!