A Wooden Toy

a story of death and a little love

"Have we got a name?"

The body shivers-
white skin ripples over spine-
a stool for all the world's
cold air
held in a breath.

Gold hair veil
littered with dust
slides away to portray the face-
countenance dreary, lip quivering,
eyes bruised restraining tears
of a man.

"Not anymore."

The little boat bobbed
in black waters,
slow in the sluggish riverflow.

"No, I know you.
I know you've a name."
Spiderweb hair on Death's maiden,
dirt-coloured cloak on a tiny frame.

"My name has proved to be...
apocalyptic
to my brain."
Sitting up and the air
slides off with a hiss,
the sound of a swan
in death.

"All my life I've celebrated
the name of myself
and held close a wooden toy."
Caloused hands
hung at his side.
"The wooden toy was my soul."

"One should know better
than to play with his soul."

"I played with all of my soul.
For the world I played with my soul.
To please the world and its people
but I've lost them all!"
He threw his arms wide in a fury
in accidental embrace with the shore
that bit him with rocky tongue
and dead hands on brittle limbs-
forest ever-gray and staring.

Now rising from the pebble floor
ahead columns
of stone- needles
in a dark fog billowing
a barrier of being.
Where mortal meets
mere immortal nothing.

Here when they've stopped and
Death's maid drops the oars
a third figure is born,
a wraith-like flickering, red stars
in the dark his eyes
reflecting time and its verses.
A slithing crawl
over so-shallow water now-
Boat stops all figures stand.

The wraith takes the pale man by the hand.
A hand in identical hand.

...

Now screaming somewhere living
an isntrument greaves its last stand
as the shadow of that hand
fades from its frame
forever.

Author's Note

let me know of any typos. I was desperately trying to (FINALLY) type this up while nervously chatting with someone i've got a pretty big crush on.. :)
good golly what did i want to say?
okay. The wooden instrument is a cello.
The celebrated name is Apocalyptica.
The name of the man is Eicca. Sorry, I love you so much Eicca! We all know that! So of course it was you who had to die!
The setting is Manala- the underworld in Finnish myths.
...
I want word-play but I want to tell the story. I'm not exactly happy with my voice in poetry.

Reviews

[dreaming dame]

I like the masculinity in this piece:) Nice write:) And crushes are always so exciting:)

[SoulCrusader (Yas)]

Haunting stuff, well done...like it very much :D

[Coyote Poetry]

I like the story a lot. The violin give life to the story. When death appeared. Brought out a interesting conversation and situation. I had to read a second time for the pleasure of the words. Thank you for sharing the excellent story. I enjoy story written with a pen of old style.
Coyote