The Tale that Couldn't be Told

He’d been tapping away at the keyboard

So he could get the ending straight,

A labour of love he’d called it

But it was dark, and getting late,

The villain had to be sorted out

By the heroine, called Cath,

He wanted it all to jell before

That final paragraph.

 

The Moon had risen outside and shone

In a strange and subdued light,

He should have finished before, so this

Was not a welcome sight.

He backspaced over a typo, then

He looked hard up at the screen,

But all that he’d typed was gibberish,

In a font he’d never seen.

 

It must have jumped to another font

Was the first thing that he thought,

So he scrolled back up, to see how much

Of his work had gone for nought.

The font looked vaguely Arabian

With a hint of Russian too,

Had taken all of his storyline

So he didn’t know what to do.

 

He tried to highlight the paragraph

And switch to the font he’d used,

But when he read what the wording said

It had left him quite confused.

‘You’ve stumbled in to a place of sin

Have opened an ancient page,

Locked down for over a thousand years

You’ve opened the world to rage.’

 

‘Delete the whole of the manuscript,

Don’t let it stick in your head,

The more you read you will feel a need

And will probably end up dead.

Delete the curse, and the final verse

And destroy your hard-drive too,

Be sure, if you wish to stay alive,

To do what I tell you to!’

 

He thought of the work that he’d put in

And the rebel within him stirred,

‘Why should I wear some other’s sin

When I only have your word?’

The screen grew misty, and Cath appeared,

The heroine of his tale,

‘Take no notice of him, my dear,

I’ll die if his will prevails.’

 

His villain pushed her out of the way

And snarled at him through the screen,

‘Where do you think my evil comes from,

Not from some fictional scheme!

You drew me out of an ancient well

Of lies, of sin and deceit,

To clear me out of your sub-conscious

You’d better hit the delete!’

 

He heard the footsteps pound up the stairs

And beat on his garret door,

‘You’d better not have my wife in there,

Or else, I’ve told you before!’

And Cath appeared for the final time

In the tale that wasn’t complete,

His neighbour beat on the padlocked door

As he sighed, and hit the delete.

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[alf]

Hi David. Wow!!! Where your muse takes you is so astonishing!!! I couldn't help but think of the 'the devil came down from Georgia' as I read this!!! it has everything evil in it and captures the bad nights of writing so very well. Hitting the delete button, wow, how tragic is that!!! Loved the humour twist at the end!! as always, an excellent write, alf

[Terrence Chang]

Great story Mr David you did it with ease

[MomzillaNC]

Better part of valor…

I must say, David, I too, like Alf, was hearing the Devil’s violin solo from “Devil Came Down to Georgia while reading this. https://youtu.be/tnepPZChA5U

[andrew mitchell]

A great supernatural tale David. Riveting story told the way you tell so well!! Enjoyed!

[Dark Empress]

Awesome poem, like always

[A Soap Mess Stories]

As always a surprise ending...great storytelling.

[anne]

I always like the story in your poem, you structure it so well..lovely work..:))

[ANTO]

I chuckled at the thought of the writer keeping one eye on the rising moon and getting more and more anxious by its passage. Just so brilliantly painted David.

"‘Why should I wear some other’s sin
When I only have your word?’ - I defy anyone to compose such meaning in less than double this amount of text. You're sharp as a razor my friend. Master wordsmith.

True supernatural stuff here. If I had you're imagination I would only write during the day and in company.

Thank you for sharing this DLP.

[R Smith]

Great story David, i'm horror mad so this is right on the mark for me, in your style and with your story telling ability its a real treat to read and enjoy so much, absolute delight my friend :)

[Lyndy]

I like this poem! It's a creative one. :D