Jason - Conflict

On the writing

I have to say when Justin and I started this exercise, I was not excited about all the poems I was certain he would have me writing. As time has gone on, though, I have learned to appreciate them. This one was no exception.

It was certainly a challenge to write a Ballade, with it's fairly demanding form, but I found myself staying up late and really enjoying getting the rhymes to work. The idea this week is about conflict, which is so broad, so I picked one that is also a bit of a allegory.

The Cave

The wrinkled priest cried of dangers hidden,
Of phantom beast that stalked from mountains west.
The shaded slopes were therefore forbidden
To leave them be was his request.
The thoughts this teased the priest could not have guessed.
With arms and map we sought our youth to shed.
Through thorn and leaf into the maul we pressed.
The cave then draped our souls with dread.

The vortex twisted capes letting chill in,
and freezing doubts, as worms, our minds infest.
The torch expired freeing the villain,
and fear of loss possessed.
Alone I found myself and blind, distressed.
No friend remained, the beast my flesh would shred,
The wage I earned when evil woke from rest.
The cave then draped my soul with dread.

The shards cut deep my form be not risen
The vile dark pressed down and I confessed,
Of pride and hopelessness, a forged prison.
Yielding I glimpsed a royal crest.
The kingly priest looked young and I was blessed.
He pulled the shade, I felt my words unsaid.
He took my place, the beast, it tore his breast.
The cave then draped his soul with dread.

But now the dreams disturb my fitful rest,
I think upon the priest who must be dead.
With that exchange his perfect love expressed,
And that cave still drapes my soul with dread.