The Muse from Hell

Listen all that would hear my voice, for one day you may make the choice.

So list hard and listen well and I’ll begin what I must tell.

The night was cold, the light grew dark, the further I entered in.

I tried to light the lamp I'd brought, but the wind was bound to win.

It whistled through the branches high and seemed to call my name, so I battled on towards it sound the truth I hoped to gain.

I wandered through the wood so dark and dense, until I reached the ruins of a churchyard fence.

The yard was cover in a thick white fog, that clung to the graves like bark to a log.

Then I saw him, sitting on a stump, his hood pulled over his head.

His thin bony hand griped a walking stick, if he hadn’t moved you’d have sworn he was dead.

As I approached the wind was still and silence struck the night,

“Are you the one that calls my name and holds within your hand my plight.” At first he would not answer, not a sound did he make, he just stared with those shiny black eyes that seemed as deep as a lake.

“So you think I can tell you of things that have passed, of the demons that now haunt you and the questions you must ask.

About your ancestor Adrick and his music so divine, And the touch of a woman and her kiss that tastes of wine.”

“When you dance with a devil you’ll pay the price, She’ll Touch and caress you and treat you nice.

But when the dawn breaks you’ll see she has gone, She’ll have stolen your heart and unravelled the song.”

“Poor Adrick, not a note has he since played not a sonnet has spilled from his soul, destined to live in a world without sound forever paying the toll.

He married! Although I can’t say why, probably from natural urges that inhabit a guy.

He died shortly after before the birth of his son, a life without enjoyment since his music had gone.”

“His body lies here somewhere about buried extra deep, Ha, ha, ha, I think from memory poor Adrick is under your feet.

He lies in torment, grief and tears, separated from music for a thousand years.”

“So why have I called you to this place, through wind and darkness time and space.

For a thousand years have now passed, and the curse has run its course at last.”

“And as the last descendant that bares the family name, that darkened coat of arms bares the word Payne.

Oh it matters not just how its spelt the meaning is still the same.

It falls upon you, to reach down in to your soul and the legacy to reclaim.”

“But now its time for you to go, back to the world where upon you stay, where mortals live and love and hide away.

So press the keys and begin to fight, let the music defeat the night.”

And as I turned to make my leave, I felt his hand upon my sleeve.

“Good luck be with you as you write, and watch your journey through this night.”

So I looked back to thank him for the kindness he did show, But he’d gone, some how had vanished just as the wind did start to blow.

And now I play each chance I get, write down the music lest I forget, the melody rolls around my brain into my fingers through every vain.

I must be watchful till the end, and be careful of those that I would befriend. In case this muse from hell tries once again, to take her vengeance out on men.

And just like Adrick who fell before, I lose the music forever more.

And so my story is now told, a story that is very old. But if perchance you should retell, you might save someone from the muse from hell.