Cauldron of Stew

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
I've been reading a lot of Edgar Allan Poe lately, and this, surely, is the consequence of that.

Submitted: June 09, 2014

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Submitted: June 09, 2014

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Pondering over a pipe; smoking – fire -place ablaze,
Peering outside my window— upon the stars I gaze.
A transparent sky on a brisk winter’s eve,
Boiling a cauldron of stew – warmth to relieve.

Vigorously – without warning – the fog meandered along
Veiling the stars in which I look upon.
Gawking, glancing, gazing into the darkened depths of the window’s deception –
I’m startled to behold my very own reflection.

“Ah away with you! Away with you I say!”
However the longer I starred back the longer it remained.
“I have no room for demons in my home!”
“This is a place to live, not a catacomb!”

I turned away to tend to my boiling stew.
Not quite ready – the meat is still rare and not cooked through.
Maybe I shall add a bit more water so it’s not thick and pasty,
The past times I have cooked this recipe it hasn’t been too tasty.

Pondering over a pipe; smoking – fire-place a blaze,
Peering onto my mantle above my fire -place.
Oh what a beautiful portrait of my adorer,
My long recently deceased love, the lovely Aurora.

Oh Aurora, a name of a Goddess, and a Goddess she was –
Consumed with passion to love me the way she does…
Or did, she once did – but with rage in her midst
She grasped a dagger that committed her heart, a toxic kiss.

Mourning, to believe she relinquished herself from me,
I dove upon her searching for life, a heartbeat.
Vacant of a beat, vacant of life to my detection,
I saw the light abandon her eyes and saw not but my very own reflection.

I bid her farewell with one final kiss upon her lips,
One last taste of her sweet skin, like gentle wine sips.
Still I miss, and I reminisce, of my most sweet adorer,
At times I tear (although she feels so near) due to the absence of my lovely Aurora.

Oh my darling Aurora, why did you depart from me so?
Your beautiful eyes and genuine smile now cease to glow.
Although you filled me with anger, I cannot bear to see you corrode,
You are far too pure and beautiful to decompose.

How I wish our final night together,
Was angelic and a moment to treasure.
But we were furious beyond all measure.
As before, I found a way to deal with the hateful pressure.

Once again I glance over to the window near which I sit,
The demon is still there glaring back – my muscles tense a bit.
The winter’s chill rushed upon me and shivered down my spine,
Check the cauldron again; it’s hot and ready, brewed very fine.

The stew gives solace to the biting chills, which are quite vicious.
And I must admit this recipe is absolutely delicious.
The broth is balanced, not too thick not too thin,
And the fresh meat is cooked tender all within.

Suddenly, screeching and smashing, shrieking and scratching,
Tree branches on the window were scraping and snapping!
The wind howled as the cries from a thousand tormented souls
The entire house was shaking utterly out of control!

And there he continued to linger, the demon in the window.
Why he will not leave me alone, I will never know.
“Let me be! What do you want from me? I’m of no use to you!”
The wind continued to roar – time for another bowl of stew.

Gulping it down, I frantically looked around the room,
Hoping – praying that the whirlwind would stop very soon.
I’m trapped inside a storm, or is the storm within me?
The reflection in the window remains to look at me!

Shivering and shivering I stammer to the cauldron
Then I peered upon the portrait of such a beautiful woman.
A gust broke through the window – flying shattered glass –
And blew the portrait into the pit of fire and ash.

I reached the cauldron, crying for my burning adorer,
But it’s empty except the bones of my darling Aurora.
The reflection is gone! The demon is I!
I took the dagger and painted the void in Aurora’s eyes!

To hide the body I brewed a beautiful recipe,
And I ate away the dreadful emotions eating within me.
So sweet, so tasty, like the last kiss upon her lips,
How I adored her every sip by sip.

Her corpse cached within my veil,
What better way to end the night with a delightful meal?


© Copyright 2019 Jay Allan Young. All rights reserved.

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