I walked a deserted street
Where I met a stooped old man
I asked him of his troubles
And so his tale began
“We start with seven siblings,”
Came the old man’s wheeze
“They brought with them great tortures;
Drought, famine and disease.”
“Far worse though were their powers!
You see, they each had one.
They set us on each other
Turned father against son”
The old man paused a moment
His expression sad and grim,
“Our plagues were simply hobbies
To satisfy their whims.”
“The first one went by Keyt
A gentleman turned beast!
For in his kindly presence,
Folks greedily would feast.
My brother ate and ate
Till he consumed no more
He gorged himself to death
Then lay still upon the floor.”
“The second was far worse
She made my father proud
We thought it was a virtue
Till my mother wove his shroud.
His boasts annoyed the neighbors
and he said we were ‘too good!’
A stranger challenged him one night
And in Town Square they stood.
My father claimed the smartest shot
He hit the target fine
But the stranger cut his gloating short
By shooting him, the swine.”
“Mother fell to Zeal
Angry at the stranger
We tried to warn her off her rage
And caution of its danger.
She loaded Father’s shotgun
And crept to Motel Scout
Shortly after Mother left
We heard the shot ring out.
The jury called her guilty
And Mother left for jail
I tried to warn my Mother
I tried, to no avail.”
The old man sighed quite deep
Then took a shallow breath,
“But it was lusty Tier
That brought my sister’s death.
You see, she loved a married man
With all her heart could give
Maybe if she hadn’t
God would’ve let her live.
The affair didn’t last long
Once Mrs. Wills found out.
She always thought her husband
Was a no-good, lousy clout.
She took a kitchen knife
Said she’d be working late
Her husband called my sister
And she fell for the bait
Then Mrs. Wills, she screamed!
Folks thought she was a banshee
And as they hauled her off
We heard her shriek ‘Amery!’”
“My brother fell to Moore
Gambling was his life
His debt lost him his house
And then he lost his wife.
He simply couldn’t live
Through all he’s woes and strife
He slit his throat out by the creek
And all we found’s the knife.
“His wife took all the blame
She lay in bed, depressed
Soon she was too tired
To bother getting dressed.
She wasted down to nothing
And starved to death one night
And that was the last chapter
In our towns ghastly plight”
“Then the whole town up and left
but I didn’t have the heart.
This is where my family died
And I just can’t depart.
So I stay to tell my story
Of how our town wrought from within
So all may know the legend
Of the Seven Deeds of Sin.”
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an entry?
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Don't let you Life's income
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don't add my photography to collections.
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And thank ya!
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we're more than artists, we're works of art.
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we're more than artists, we're works of art.
~artistic-advancement
welcome ^^
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"What's after this?" "Third base..." -Devi
Hey batter, batter, batter, batter SWING -Emily P. and Dark
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-------Jadis///...
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we're more than artists, we're works of art.
~artistic-advancement
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we're more than artists, we're works of art.
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