An Unusual Disease

The ballad of a young man with an extordinary ability.

 

There lived a man once

In this sorrowful ole’ decade

Who dwelled not very far from here

His appalling story

Be told not a vein

And should be a lesson to every opened ear

 

He was very fine and charming

This young man of dreams

And all the young women he pleased

But he had the strangest mind

And a different kind of soul

For he had an unusual disease

An unusual disease

 

Lined up and down his wall

Were not child’s play things

But were antiques and rare souvenirs

Axes, knives, and swords

Were the kind of things he liked

All of which he collected through the years

 

An artistic hand

Was a gift he possessed

And a voice that could calm the seven seas

But he had a quaint eye

For the darker things in life

For he had an unusual disease

An unusual disease

 

By many he was judged

Being different from the rest

But he had no fear of any man’s mind

Though they scoffed at his pride

He continued to be strong

For he was the only one of his kind

 

One day they conspired

A sinful group of juveniles

His life, they decided they would cease

But these foolish, young men

Knew not their guiltless victim

For he had an unusual disease

An unusual disease

 

On a cold night they gathered

Their vile minds filled with lust

Grabbing guns and other murderous things

And the leader of them said,

“Listen very closely.

We will go when the last bird sings.”

 

The last bird was a raven

Cawing their alarm

And the gang left with a sinister ease

Clearly, they did not know

About this young man

Or that he had an unusual disease

An unusual disease

 

They kicked down his door

And found him in his bathroom

On his knees, he did beg and plead

But their hearts so filled with foulness

They shot him anyway

Leaving him in his bathtub to bleed

 

He was dead, after they left

A cruel and brutal sight

But, even still, he did not rest in peace

No, he opened up both eyes

And from the tub he stood

For he had an unusual disease

An unusual disease

 

Blood dripped from his hair

And down his cold, sallow flesh

And he grabbed an old axe; his most prized antique

And without a single grin

He chopped through the first murderer’s door

With no intention or need to sneak

 

From the axe blood dripped

As his victim watched in horror

And the living corpse swung it with one hand

And without a single sigh

For the dead don’t need to breathe

He left the decapitated man

 

For the other’s, you can predict

What their fate was that night

They had no time to wail please

And let this be a lesson

For those desiring to kill

I heed you of an unusual disease

An unusual disease

 

Author's Note

This is a ballad I just wrote. Please do leave feedback. (Please leave constructive critism and not rude comments.)

Reviews

[Miss Marie Riorden.]

First thing I thought when I saw the "Unusual Disease" , it's a zombie poem. Oh gee. I love this. The imagery, and the flow of it works. A ballad it truly is. And how you let it end with our imagination to feast on any dark delight we may please. Great write (:
Almost sounds like song btw, that's how well it flows.

[Calypso]

Great story. Reminds me of Dexter!

[Raven Starhawk]

Remarkable. It is hard to measure in terms of brilliance since it surpasses the word in any way. Superb write.