There was a great deal of urgency in the message.
"you must come at once", it said.
"Everyone and everything depend on you."
"Time is of the essence".
He read it, and read it, over and over,
Scriblings of unknown handwriting,
Written in blood.
Then, burned the paper,
And washed the ashes down the sink,
So he would leave no trace.
With great haste prepared his horse,
What he would need for the long journey,
A cross, a sword, a skull, a candle,
a book of poems.
Then, rode the wind, the fire and the water,
The nights and the scorching suns,
Until his horse collapsed and died,
Until his face was full of wrinkles.
When he arrived, crawling,
thirsty, hungry and sick,
There was no one to greet him,
and there was nothing left of the village.
Only thirteen children, without faces, playing in an empty field,
And a bell ringing at the deserted church.
Then, a clown appeared out of nowhere
His face painted white - laughing,
RETURN TO MAIN PAGE
"You are late", he screamed,
"My friend you are late",
"They all have gone -But here,
a new message for you"
© 2000 George Pararas-Carayannis