I traveled with the crusader—
A young and lowly monk—
His large form covered with armor;
Before him all things shrunk.
Intimidation shook me strong—
I gave that to my Lord—
As we trod forc’fully along
Across scorched earth—rotting gourds.
Bolstered by the pure Gospel’s word—
Slave, obey thy master—
I clung to my holy duty,
Obeyed this knight faster.
Headed forward toward foreign soil—
Nearing our destiny—
I knew not to where we would go;
I bought his purity.
Granted, he could be a bit cold—
Cursing anger as vex—
Pillaging hopeless farmers’ fields,
Thrott’ling men’s lesser sex.
As we arrived at a rock crag—
Cloister loomed like a rook—
A grey turret spired high up;
There my legs really shook.
The turret badly maligned,
Inverted cross loopholes;
Still I did obey for Rome’s sake,
To see my holy goals.
Upon dismounting, the grim knight
Led us up and inside—
Deep inside where li’l light would hold—
Where rot and hell collide.
The air held the foulest rancor—
Moldering aged decay—
A horrid moan chilled me to bone.
Came wickedness our way.
It’s then I remembered the folks—
Superstitious they seemed—
They warned me not to follow here,
That I’d be unredeemed.
Too late to heed their dire warnings,
I stood there paralyzed—
A black shadow with a white face—
Forever traumatized.
Necrotic, yet moved with such speed,
The shape loomed quick above;
Oxblood fissures tore its face,
Onyx eyes devoid love.
A missing maw but for its jaw—
The ghastly shadow spoke—
Visibly clacking above its throat,
Words growled out with a horrid choke.
“Amen. Euer for, glory the
“and, yes, power the and,
“Kingdome the is thine for: euill...”
His words escaped like sand.
“from vs deliuer but,” he said,
“Temptation into not
“Vs lead and debtors our forgiue”
O God, the Lord’s Prayer’s rot!
No convent therein—Satan’s throne!—
The wraith’s voice crescendoed
Seizing ‘pon what leaves folk dead
And their spouses widowed.
The dark knight lifted his helmet—
The grotesque voice went on—
His hair a deep mahogany
With streaks of golden dawn.
“We as, debts our vs forgiue and.
Bread daily our day this...”
I could not stand the noise thenceforth,
Yet stuck in the abyss!
“Heauen in is it as, earth in...”
Woe! Something I heard there shifted...
“Done be will thy, come kingdome thy.”
Behind him a woman—gifted—
Was mouthing incantation spells.
“Name the be hallow-ed.
“Heauen in art which father Our.”
The words were follow-ed
By a long, maniacal laugh.
The knight and the specter
Merged body and soul into one—
The ghost and collector.
There, before my eyes, I did see
Richard—Lion-hearted—
Now a shade of Satan;
Soul sold—Christ departed.
The two became of one accord—
Frost biting at my heart—
Here my shade sits, waiting for you
To play your own blind part.
© 2025 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
Originally published on tristanrobertlange.com, September 22, 2025.
Originally published on tristanrobertlange.com, September 22, 2025.
Tittu
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Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: September 22nd, 2025 11:26
- Comment from author about the poem: For Macabre Monday. This is the second part in my series, Devilishly Dreadful. Drawing from the 1840s penny dreadful, The Black Monk; or, The Secret of the Grey Turret, this poem plummets faith into shadow, where cloisters conceal rot and even the Lord’s Prayer collapses into corruption. In true dreadful fashion, sacred symbols unravel, and horror rises in the void left in the wake.
- Category: Gothic
- Views: 9
- Users favorite of this poem: Friendship
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Comments4
The poem explores the tension between faith and the darker aspects of human nature, particularly how the pursuit of power can lead one astray. It reflects the internal struggle of a monk who follows a crusader, questioning his beliefs and the morality of their actions as they encounter evil.
Thanks so much, Friendship. Yes, faith’s struggle with power is at the heart…though I also wanted to show the folly of blind devotion to any cause. I am so glad the pieced resonated and delivered, my friend. Here’s to Halloween-inspired goosebumps! . 🕯️⛪🕷️⚔️
A poetic story pairing the natural good but weak follower with the strong but too bold that joins the evil due to a headstrong persistence. Great lines and the use of spelling deviations to mark the demonic. Great symbolism and a sense of darkness. A narrative poem it tells its story well. Evil overcomes. Very nice Tristan
Soren, thank you so much, my friend. You read it beautifully…especially the way evil presses through the text. Just to note: those deviations actually come straight from the 1611 style of English, swapping u’s and v’s, etc. I loved the eerie feel of leaning into that history, as though the prayer itself carried a crack in its foundation. Truly appreciate your eye and support dear poet and friend. 🕯️⛪🕷️⚔️
Most welcome Tristan it is a pleasure
As an accompaniment to breakfast....sorry...I... ah - that's better; got room for another breakfast now....what about the news? that should cheer me up......
Great if gory yarn, Tristan.👍
Dave, haha…glad I could serve up a side of gore with your morning meal. 🍳☕ Nothing like a dreadful yarn to sharpen the appetite before the news ruins it again. Thanks much, my friend! 🕯️⛪🕷️⚔️
Yes, I've heard of the Lord's Prayer spookily being said backwards.
Being daft - does Tom have 'bad hair days' like this?! lol. And where's Popeye?
LOL! Yeah, he's quite the messy gourd, you know? Popeye doesn't like pumpkin, so he went out scavenging for spinach...but you know him...always mixing his seasons up! LOL! It's hard to keep it all together mentally when you are so physically drained. Why is he so drained, one might wonder. Don't answer that! 🤣...I mean...erm...Iron deficiency due to a lack of spinach, of course!
Why yes, iron deficiency due to a lack of spinach. If not, what else could it be? Don't answer that! lol.
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