The Devil’s Lantern

     Let’s start the week with something from the darker side. After all it is approaching the Halloween season, is it not? 

     As usual for a Monday, I’m running a bit behind, (no, I didn’t get my A$$ chewed out) so, a quick introduction is all you get today.. Sounds of applause can be heard in great numbers. Okay not really great numbers but.. Nevermind!

     Have a mysterious Monday,


All that is left of the “Light”

The Devil‘s Lantern

It’s light could be seen,

for miles upon miles,

as it cut through the dark,

of the night.

Guiding the traveller,

from all four winds,

drawn as the moth there,

in flight.


 For the promise of warmth,

of fire and food,

and perhaps, a tankard,

of ale.

Pushed onward and faster,

the pilgrim in route,

from all points of the compass,

would hail.


 As the “Magi” had followed,

the brightest of stars,

seeking the Child,

of the “Light.”

So too, the wanderers,

followed their star,

that lantern that shone,

so bright.


 Through weather a’fair,

but more so, in foul,

the beam be a beacon,

of hope.

Where safe from the dangers,

of the hard-journeyed road,

an appointment with pleasure,

they’d cope.


 Many the visitor,

were spelled by that beam,

yet, many the visitor,

passed through.

 Though occasioned the stranger,

sudden unseen,

who may have added a taste,

to the stew.


 ‘Twas the lure of the lantern,

leading those souls,

seeking the pleasures,

of earth.

And would guide them to where,

all sins could be found,

as well as their soul’s,

own true worth.


 Yes, the sins of the earth,

were there for a price,

for any, and all,

your enjoys.

And all sins of the flesh,

there for to choose,

be it the girls,

or the boys.


 The owner was a man,

of sinister charm,

who greeted each guest,

dressed in red.

A smile gleaming white,

in a long flowing cape,

with eyes, black as death,

it was said.


 But, beware the fool,

caught in his spell,

who would never again,

be seen.

By family or friend,

on this side of Hell,

but by only the ghosts,

in between.


 For the flesh that they pleasured,

was soon to be fed,

 when added to that,

of the hogs.

Served then to the needful,

who gluttoned for more,

and bones boiled, then be served,

to the dogs.


 With no trace left behind,

marking their stay,

and no whisper,

of whence they had passed.

Forever forgotten,

by those of this world,

but welcomed, by the fools,

of the past.


 On the day of the arrival,

of Angels,

the owner was nowhere,

to be found.

All that was left of his visage,

were lost souls,

and those bones,

on the ground.



 Jack Downing

May 2012




Copyright© Jack Downing, aka Jake All rights reserved. Contents may not be reprinted or disseminated in any manner without the expressed written consent of the author. JRD



About poemsandponderings

Hearth and Health are wonderful things and if you're without either such sorrow that brings So I cannot express enough thanks to my Lord and to my family and friends for the support you afford! ~Jack Downing~
This entry was posted in Animals, beer, dog, ghosts, Halloween, history, lodges, old days, soul, whiskey. Bookmark the permalink.

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