I had the bottle
I had the well
I had the population
and the cold interest
in consequences.
So simple:
tip it in, see what happens.
But it would have been too obvious.
I was not interested in being caught.
It gnawed at me,
for all my polished indifference,
the knowledge of the power I wielded
but could not use
Then one day
strangers came,
rolling into the village
in their painted caravans
And I wasted not one second.
As soon as the moon was full
I crept out
through the villagers' suspicious mutterings,
unseen by the baleful glances
cast at the foreign shapes and colours -
forgotten, in all my oddness,
in the wake of this new devilry.
It was the work of a moment,
a soft sound like summer's rain
then back to the shadows
to wait.
And now,
riding past the lynch-mob's clumsy justice,
circled by merry crows,
briefly entranced
by a burnt-out caravan
I can finally
enjoy
the silence.
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 6:22 AM UTC
I had the bottle
I had the well
I had the population
and the cold interest
in consequences.
So simple:
tip it in, see what happens.
But it would have been too obvious.
I was not interested in being caught.
It gnawed at me,
for all my polished indifference,
the knowledge of the power I wielded
but could not use
Then one day
strangers came,
rolling into the village
in their painted caravans
And I wasted not one second.
As soon as the moon was full
I crept out
through the villagers' suspicious mutterings,
unseen by the baleful glances
cast at the foreign shapes and colours -
forgotten, in all my oddness,
in the wake of this new devilry.
It was the work of a moment,
a soft sound like summer's rain
then back to the shadows
to wait.
And now,
riding past the lynch-mob's clumsy justice,
circled by merry crows,
briefly entranced
by a burnt-out caravan
I can finally
enjoy
the silence.
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