literature

The Comers

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Literature Text

Ages they stood
In their riverside village,
Frolicking and playing
With the beasts around them,
Touching the water on occasion,
Using it more often.
A great world they built
For themselves,
Their children,
And all the world around them.

They knew
But didn't truly
Of the Comers.
The Comers were
Called many a thing:
Season Men,
Bedmakers,
Cleaners,
Takers,
The eldest preferred
Of the names to call
Their nemesis
Deathbringers.

One fair noon,
The Comers came
One on a beast of steel,
The other on a lesser beast,
Of the forms of the villagers,
But not quite of their forms.

The villagers warned
Their friends,
Their loves,
And family
When they heard the beasts,
But stood still for fright
When they passed by.

The Comer on
The lesser beast
Was familiar
To the elders,
Who had seen him
And another, quite often
Over many decades.
He often came, strong,
To take their kin away.

The lesser Comer
On the greater beast
Was new to all.
He wore
On his face
Solid air,
To many's awe.

With another machine
Of steel, the greater Comer
Reaped their brethren,
Some long before gone,
Others not long past
Vital.

The younger Comer
Marched his way
Passing over
The villagers who
Stood still for fright.

The sick and elderly,
The lesser Comer
Took to the greater's path.

"My mother, my mother!
He has taken
My poor mother
From us all!"
One cried, but
Stood still for fright.

"Look, he takes not the strong,
Only the dead!
He is a new Comer, unique!"
An elder cried, but still
Stood still for fright.

The Comer marched through
A circle of
Villagers around
A deceased.  All
Stood still for fright
As he moved to take the
Departed soul, and placed
It in the path.

"My child, take not my child!"
Silently pleaded another.
The Comer looked at the child,
Long sickly.
A frown wearing,
He uprooted the child
From its place
And threw it
To the path
Of the greater Comer.

"He is a new Comer!
Gentler than the
One he serves,
The one the one he serves
Served, and the one
That he, too, served.

"He is crueler!"
Parents cried.
"He takes our children.
The old let them age
In our arms,
Rooted in our home."

But all stood still for fright.

They all watched as the great
Metal beast trampled
The removed villagers,
Dragging along the lesser beast.
Soon, all the uprooted
And cut down
Were placed with the
Greater Comer
Upon the lesser beast,
And they departed,
Never to be seen,
Until they Came again.
I invented this while in the woods we own. I suppose I played the role of the Lesser Comer, taking dead, and small trees from the banks and putting in the path of my father. I had to fancy what the trees thought of me, and this was born.

If you got anything else from the poem, nothing like what I thought I wrote, do tell me. You might earn yourself a poem for your efforts.
© 2010 - 2024 logonomicon
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crimsha's avatar
cool! i love how you came upon writing this!