The enemy of poor outside my door

a monsters decision. i wrote this for an english class, where we had to write a story from first person about ourselves, and turn it into a 3rd person prose from a monster s p.o.v

 The Enemy of poor outside my door.

By Alex Zynder

 

Part 1

What is that I hear? The gust of frozen wind with humanly moans

The sound of fraught screaming and rocks being thrown

They have always wished I stay forlorn

Why then tonight, do they cross the bourn?

Thunderous yells pierce my walls of thickest stone

 

My ears against the boulder, my rocky door

I listen to them bemoan, and I hear them implore

“Save us, save us! Please give us refuge!

 Winter is here to enslave us! You cannot refuse!

Asking salvation from the monster that they abhor

 

They have chased me, as long as day has stalked the night

Though I retreat from each battle, and flee from each fight

They sang terrible songs of me, malicious even in the highest tone

                They brought whips to rip the skin, and clubs to break the bone

What have I done to deserve such spite?

 

Part 2

 If I were to let them reap what they sow            

 They would be all turned, into the snow

But If I should treat the enemy as a friend

 Opening my door to let them in

Would they not still think me as their foe?

 

Odysseus piked the Cyclops while in his bed

Perseus killed Medusa to take her head

Would they not try to kill me as well?

Like a Bird out of its tree, a snail out of its shell

Would they eat my bread, and come the spring leave me dead?

 

“We need shelter! We need to eat!

We need water! We need the heat!”

                They are a child, who bites and yells

                And wonders why he is not being held

Arms out stretched, on the tips of his feet

 

 

“You scream for mercy at my cavern gate

You have shown me nothing but the deepest hate

                I should let your bodies be all consumed

                Left to freeze in a blizzard tomb!”

 The mountain shakes under my monstrous weight

 

But the Hours had passed , and No begging yells returned

 All my enemies had become stiff and taciturn

                I moved the stone, and kept the door wide

                And brought each frozen body right inside

Next to my crackling fire that has always burned

Reviews

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

A serious look at story telling with the prose of writing, well done, good read.

[Lorraine]

I must say the POV is refreshing. It's not always that I read a poem where the monster is on the good side. I love the story of this. Somehow it reminded me of Beauty and the Beast, and I don't know why. Your poem is epic.

Keep Writing. ^___^

[Cherrie Palmer]

very good, I loved it you told a complete story in this poem. I only wished that there was a part 3 :)