In Deep Darkness

June 7, 2009
By Nick Bernstein BRONZE, Oak Park, Illinois
Nick Bernstein BRONZE, Oak Park, Illinois
2 articles 2 photos 0 comments

I was forged in deep darkness
The bowels of the earth
My limbs cradled by the fallen angel
And my wicked mother
As the wind blew dreadfully in the night
I fail’d foresight
And desecrated my homeland.

In the deep fires of hell
My face was moulded from hurt pride
Scorched freedom
And the eyes of unseen generations.
My life begun where the cold knew no name
And the wind blew the same
As everyday.

Impish in form was I
Rising from the dark-mud
To burst up into clean air
On the mainland of Europa.
It was quiet for some time as I made around a corner
And the stone-walls kept me at bay.
So I smashed through great doors
Took soldiers to the skies and back again.
As they deserv’d this fate
And yet again
They lie in no state
To be grateful.

As I tear their bloodied corpses my heart is unweilding
Their wine-water combines with mine.
The antichrist has arrived in full form
There was no time to warn of the forlorn
And in the fullness of time all things in subjection are to
Be put under me as if you
Were any sort of match.

So the angry wolf charged at me
With demonic speed
And It was no match for my limbs of terror
And therefore I struck on a dime and there was
No time
To watch what I had accomplished
An unfinished project this was
This was not my doing
But I was trained to do what they asked me to.
A road of ash left behind me
I had struck the first town
And this was the beginning of the end.

So the darkness follow’d me everywhere
And I fell into the shadows
Changed my form to fit the
Situation and gave myself a new
Try at my own monstrosity
Because after all, beauty
Is in the eye of the beholder.
And after all is over
And all is though
All is not my problem
Its up to you
And quite near
I mean to inquire
A bloody battle
Sleep now, in the fire.

There’s a pain
That runs through the evening
There’s a sign
That is seething
Greeting me at the gates of the world under us
Taken in a new terrible direction.

Not one creature
Save my parents
Can define my stature and style
For fear of coming to close
And being thrown a mile.

Bestia est Iustus Exorsus ,
quod Deus Succurro Quisnam
Crux crucis suus Semita.

The author's comments:
This is a project I did for english, and had to submit it for a final exam. It's not my best work, however, it pertains to the style of a poetic prelude, a prologue to the epic poem Beowulf itself. And it’s a bit vague how it runs along, but I think I tried to show that, from a first person POV, that Grendel doesn’t come from humble beginnings. He comes from horrible beginnings, a product of the devil and his wife. And I wanted to depict him as this beastly object, not to be sympathized with, to look at from a distance and observe. I take a different look at Grendel then most readers. It’s odd, but at the same time more fitting.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!