| 
|
Page: Profile: Poetry
| Total Views: 6,095,528
|
Poem Specs
VxPoem ID: 35295
Category:
other
Posted: February 2nd. 2009 2:58:53 PM
Views: 122 |
A Fallen Angel's Wings: Verse 4
by Evesapple89
Age Group: Adult
Verse 4
The Curse of the Fallen
It had been a long day, excruciatingly long, especially with Adrian. Meleas didn’t know what he was going to do. Adrian had been captured without him even knowing it. Had there been another fallen? Or was it a hellhound? Was Lucifer after the information that Adrian had been telling in her suspected fictional stories? If that was the case, Michael was going to have a hard time in the Celestial Court.
The night was cold, the moon full, and an opportune time for Hell’s demons to emerge. That was the problem at hand and Meleas mentally slapped himself for trailing his thoughts. Meleas had his worn black cloak on, his cloud nine pistol in hand. Mammon was probably out also. What a night this was going to be.
Meleas found an alley that the damned creatures so often like to emerge from. The trash had a reek that was indescribable to any mortal. Then there it was; the hell’s gate. Hell isn’t all fire and brimstone like Dante’s Inferno pictures. In reality it is a cold, deserted wasteland. Like a dried out tundra. But under the cracked crust lies monsters of nightmare and gore. So boorish and disgusting that even the Hellhounds won’t go near them. The Trieste, a red and black demon of shadow, they breath fire and the odor is unbearable to any human being. They enjoy tormenting the soul and hearing the snap of bone as the soul screams in agony, a terrifying screech that even Meleas would flinch at.
The cold aura lingered on Meleas, sending a slight shiver down his spine. Then with a bloody snap a Trieste found its footing. The blast of rotting flesh, burning and death filled the air thick around Meleas. Then a streak of white flame came hurtling toward Meleas. He ducked and rolled, his golden gun already pointed at the monster. The creature growled, like a dog playing with its midday meal. Meleas lunged and held onto one of its horns. The Trieste flung its head back and forth, vigorously attempting to shake the fallen.
Meleas reached for his belt and clipped off a small glowing orb, the swirl of crystalline water shown on the Trieste’s eye and it screamed, screamed in the agony of the holy object. Then Meleas smashed the orb on the Trieste’s back. Holy water glistened as it trickled down, with it the sent of scorched skin.
The hell born demon then gnawed at its neck, catching Meleas’ arm, pulling him forward and swinging him from its mouth like a tyrannosaurus would its prey. Meleas aimed and shot, one, two, three times directly at the brain. The Trieste soon swayed and fell, then diminished into a smoldering ash.
“You can’t buy your way into heaven, Meleas.” A silk voice called from the shadows.
“I don’t feel like dealing with you right now, Diann.” Meleas said irritably.
“Then deal with that damn writer!” Her usual childish disposition was broken and the fallen that Meleas had come to know finally showed itself. She stood in her ever favored black colonial gown with white pinstripes. A pair of ladylike boots clopped as she walked toward him. Her shimmering golden hair was tied into a loose bun, a few curl framing her pale, but gracious face.
“She’s not harming anyone.”
“She’s practically giving information to Lucifer. If Mammon gets any word on where she is, he’ll take her and drain her mind of all the information she knows.” Her hardened face softened and she leaned into Meleas, holding his shoulder, “My love-“
“Not anymore, Diann.”
She frowned, “Have you taken a liking to this human?”
Meleas froze, has he?
Meleas turned, shrugging Diann from his shoulder. He left the alley and a length of black feathers spread from his back. “Stay out of it Diann.” With that he lifted into the cool night air in a silent wisp.
“It will be your fault, Meleas! It’ll be your fault!”
Meleas knew what she was taking about. If he left Adrian alive and well; Mammon would capture her and take any information about the Celestial Court that he could. If that happened then Heaven’s downfall would finally come.
Author's Location: Sheboygan, Wisconsin
More Poems: Evesapple89 has posted 9 additional poems- View them?
Author's Profile: To learn more about Evesapple89 - Click HERE
Contact Me Via Email...
Email Invites Note: Yes! I have opted to receive invites to Pagan events, groups, and commercial sales
Disclaimer: The Witches' Voice inc does not verify the accuracy of the details stated in this listing, nor do we vouch for the value of the goods or services presented here... As with all contacts and financial dealings in cyberspace, we encourage you to use caution and wisdom in your dealings with strangers.
Political Statements: Any and all personal political opinions expressed in the public listing sections (including, but not restricted to, personals, events, groups, shops, Wren's Nest, etc.) are solely those of the author(s) and do not reflect the opinion of The Witches' Voice, Inc. TWV is a non-profit, non-partisan educational organization.
|
State/Country flags created by 3dflags.com and are used with permission
Web Site Content (including: text - graphics - html - look & feel)
Copyright 1997-2009 The Witches' Voice Inc. All rights reserved
Note: Authors & Artists retain the copyright for their work(s) on this website.
Unauthorized reproduction without prior permission is a violation of copyright laws.
Website structure, evolution and php coding by Fritz Jung on a Macintosh G5.
Any and all personal political opinions expressed in the public listing sections (including, but not restricted to, personals, events, groups, shops, Wren’s Nest, etc.) are solely those of the author(s) and do not reflect the opinion of The Witches’ Voice, Inc. TWV is a nonprofit, nonpartisan educational organization.
Sponsorship: Visit the Witches' Voice Sponsor Page for info on how you
can help support this Community Resource. Donations ARE Tax Deductible.
The Witches' Voice carries a 501(c)(3) certificate and a Federal Tax ID.
Mail Us: The Witches' Voice Inc., P.O. Box 341018, Tampa, Florida 33694-1018 U.S.A.
| |
|
