Theater of The Absurd (Black Crown Suite)

Theater of The Absurd has been published in All of Me Vol. IV, courtesy of Shadow Spark Publishing.

Listen to Theater of The Absurd by Richard Charles Stevens (Black Crown Suite)

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Worlds collided
Blood spilled freely
The graffiti of lament
Bled of many centuries misspent
Precious few foretold decline
In times of great distress
Fewer still paid any mind
Declined regrets expressed
Worlds collided
Blood spilled freely
Innocents severely bled
As Hades bid recline within the kingdom of the dead

Titans defeated
With Zeus and Poseidon by side
Humans retreated
For such was their cheated birthright
A dominion existed in the secret realm he supervised
Mankind denied by Furies to his realm assigned
Worlds collided
Blood spilled freely
Nations reeling stupefied
Every downfall scrutinized
By He exalted ruthless eyes
Precious few dehumanized
Cleft flesh became their prisons
Fled to right
Dressed left dividing schism
Only those composed of in-between
In favour seen through eyes reposed to ebb and flow of hopeless scene
At his leisure, pleasuring those known to weather suffering
Hell had fury
Brutally perverse
Rumoured of the dead long wed to earth

The amphitheater of absurd
Where swords and shields collided
Concurred gladiatorial abide
Blood spilled freely
Tainted sand
Disgraced by man
Defaced by plans to overthrow the only hope remaining
Hell had fury
Brutally unchanging
For mortals seldom suture to the truth upon invading
Hades wore the gown renowned for crowning the exanimate
Only whence they favoured brave
Paraded fame of abstinence
Flagellant the sacrament of malfeasant regress
Never-ending pain offset to every ventured pleasure of the flesh
The kingdom of the dead
Would nary favour the admittance
Of those who traded masqueraded riches for mere pittance

The spear of his name stained uneven terrain
The tally of slain was too great to enumerate
Undone by the human traits that sped the dissolution rate
Stood at the veil gate
Surveyed hellish scene
Hades seeked only to cherish a queen
Zealous to breathe the same air declared by She
He laid his reddish eyes upon Persephone
Suggestively arresting every sense bereft deceit
His half mast heart felt instantly complete
Howbeit, no blood stained her teeth
Of own accord proceeded
No fruit in her palm
Immune it appeared to his devastating charm
Wouldst not suffer fools; Wouldst humour no psalm
The air then fell deathly of calm

Worlds collided
Blood spilled freely
Pooled about her feet
Yet, Hades gaze failed her to tremble beneath
Wielding a scepter and wheat in a sheaf
It was all at once clear of the bit betwixt teeth
Hades paraded crowned head of dark realm
Thanatos froze as She chimed leavened kneel
Rising to greet the one realized well in advance of advancing
No reason expelled
For He of the underworld charmed, She knew well
And deemed his kingdom hers alone to dwell
Not that her affection lacked direction
Neither didst she fail to mention heaven unto hell
Yet, this was brief in passing
For within decreed remembrance, Persephone wouldst soon bid him farewell

Worlds collided
Blood spilled freely
Hades each pain felt
Released unto a shell
Removed of every thought rebelled
The underworld no longer suited
One of telltale light polluted
Shadow heart forever muted
Born again of mortal coil
Of foreign soil commuted
Nowise didst his misery so swell
Memories were fleeting
Every bit as sped as breathing
For Persephone requested slate be clean
The queen He would cherish
Embellished each dream
Where of light and of shade
They bid tween
His transience wouldst solely hint of She
The glint of reddish eyes
Reprise exclusively asleep
Until such time as worlds collided once again, in kind
He bled of free will
Painted blind
Of sight resigned from keep
One fine day
The kingdom of the dead
Of venture deep
Hades wouldst earn favour of his queen
In hope of despair
Hades breathed the cold, bleak air
Proceeded to the secret lair
Unredeemed of heathens prayer
To pomegranate tree
To savour the fruit in the palm of his beloved
Calm midst the truth only She beseeched covet
To fame again love so much more bespoke than spoken word
And dance refrain within the amphitheater of absurd
Dance refrain within the amphitheater of absurd

Richard Charles Stevens

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

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