The Raven : 2

[ Bloomsbury– London Late 1800’s ]

I feel righteous fury as I land and roll,
ready myself and draw the antimony gun.
I tie off on leaded roof and leap once more into the void,
suspended for a moment in the rain
before snapping rope swings me back again.
I crash through the high window with sharded glass for company
high above the ritual most unholy.

As I fall toward them I laugh aloud,
for even the undead King looks up in shock
as I hammer feet first into his camphor shroud.
He all but explodes under the force,
and I bear the brunt through battered knees
as gravity takes its course.

His head rolls away attached by foul wrappings of
hells own making, I aim and fire!
The beam of holy purification lances out
and engulfs the Egyptian king’s head.
Cleansing flame will take him,
the dead should stay dead!

Spinning quick I see the scene, a mortal man
begins to scream, dressed in Hermetic robes but just a man,
it matters not, to me he is worse than the hell I just put down,
worse than any demon.
Choosing evil for his own control and gain,
not simply lead astray through human weakness,
in momentary shame.

And so I walk with dark purpose toward this man of power,
and put away my gun,
for I will make him taste human pain with human fists,
to remind him what he truly is,
just more human scum.

Wait! he cries, I have names and more!
I stop an inch away, Ravens face saying more than I can ever say.
He talks then and there about a threat to their order,
About a woman who wields magic,
a woman of unusual power.
The Mummy was to be her doom,
before she could bring their dark order to its knees,
they would kill her in this very room.

I go to work and leave him there,
bound by Gods law not to take a life,
and remembering that he has given me much this night.
He has given me a name!
Elyria Green.  Another witch
playing Satan’s endless game.
I’ll see her done or if its gods will,
see her cleansed with holy flame.

I leave him breathing and depart,
to find this witch,
with joy in my savage and god fearing heart!

Copyright Faramond Frie © 2015

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