Saturday, June 9, 2012
The Fifth Moon
((Unholy spirits descend to the Mosel Valley)
(A Dramatic Prose Poem))
There is a drawing of power within the moon onto earth, and those on earth can feel this pull, and the unholy spirits that dwell upon the moon—occasionally dwell upon the moon, draw from the moon’s and earth’s inner cores, their power, and after five- consecutive moon’s, the power within the unholy spirits, also known as familiar spirits, are at its most condensed and greatest point of commanding evil’, and when they find a human participant—for whatever snares they wish to entrap their prey—they do just that, they have the drawing power of the five moons—they have that inner power; and it is said only the most Godly of men and women can resist its heave—it is more than an implication: the ghoul or demon possessing the muscle of this power—must have its pry within its vaults and chambers—willingly participate, and once he or she has with its: rituals and debaucheries, it can at will own that soul, if indeed it surrenders. This is one such case…and this is also in one particular area of Planet Earth, where these unholy spirits, unscrupulous pale and nauseating creatures harvest their playmates, known as the Mosel Valley, and its snake like river, in West Germany—and now we shall begin the story…
Eltz Castle, Night in the Mosel Valley (1974)
Castle n the Mosel Valley
“I must talk to the dead,” Eva said. The old seer listened closely, she
asked for one-hundred Marks for her services; but she would have Given them free. She herself had been dead forty years. Said Eva, “Is it
death I must go through—, to reach him, to reach my beloved Brother?”
“Death, O death,” responded Ronda the Seer, “Yes, oh yes, you must
taste its flavor—pretty sister, if you want to get to him.”
The old woman started humming a tune, vainly waiting a reply. Then Added to her monologue: “If you dare, if you really, really dare, there will
be strange monstrous figures everywhere, in Earth’s underworld, but Be not scared, I will be there, I really, really will be there. Also you will
hear splash and sloth, murmuring and gurgle and whimpering—much Whimpering on this journey: nothing will be quiet once they are
awakened to your presence in the underworld: but be not scared, I will Be there, I really, really will be near…
Then she pinched Eva on the thigh to see her squirm—her willingness to
“For the land of the dead,” reiterated Ronda, “there is no beauty, just flies
and bats, and wooden faces like masks: chambers everywhere, and People like Puppets and idols, being dragged here and there, by the hair;
but do not fear, please do not fear, I will be there, I really will be there, To protect you my Dear. But God will not be there, just crumpled
Ronda, the Seer
So the old seer (at Eltz Medieval Castle, in the Mosel Valley of Germany)
laid her hands upon her breasts, the Duke, called the Lion, looking Down out of his window, down into the courtyard of this Saxony and Bavarian castle (AD 1192) gawking, wondering: are they here again?
It was the night of a gibbous-moon, thus it was filled with sluggishly
dancing shadows; like pale hoary mares, the demonic forces tried to Appease one another, with a show: stretching out their shadows and
shapes, likened to a blowing-out candle across the half lit moon, that Seemingly was bearing spikes—awaiting for some kind of doom—thus
they danced on and on!...
Said the shrieking Seer, once again—with wide owl like eyes, and a gush
of watery noises, about to take that fatal step into the deep, with Eva: “You must not groan, or make a sound: make no mistake when you go Down, to the land of the dead, — down to the House of Hades, lest you
wake them up and spoil your quest that you no longer are protected By the angels of Heaven— and they may wish for your pleasurable flesh.
Even if you hear weird sounds: like broken ends of bones grinding on
each other, remain quiet.”
Eva, she grew quiet like granite, more conscious, as she listened, then
saw in the night sky, a white twilight ebbing around the moon, in an Everlasting repetition: shadows like horsemen galloping half-inches apart
around this twilight…demonic dancing!
In and out of the courtyard the old Seer paced, swimming with thoughts,
chanting—as if awaiting someone’s arrival...
Then someone started yanking on the iron-bell at the gate, a call to let
them in, and Ronda the Seer opened it, but no one walked through The archway, not anyone visible anyway; thus, there was little more to
said on the matter—but it was, it really was, someone, and Ronda Knew who it was: the muscle-bound Demon…called Agaliarept, the
Henchman of Hell, Satan’s right hand man; he now possessed the muscle
of the Five Moons and Earth’s magnetic core…!
The breath of dusk came with a shrill to twilight; it sank over the valley,
a dry evening of moths that seemed to choke out the air, with dark Reeking ill faded shadows and shapes that swelled the atmosphere.
And the shrieking seer, the old woman lay down, as if to rest, holding her
knees inward, close to her breasts, One arm tightly against them—Crushing both as if they were roots of soft grass…
The moon had lowered itself; it appeared to have acquired ripples…
The hideous night— was developing into a crystal orange, purple ash, a
thick watery darkness, laced with shady hues.
It now started to breed a reckless wind, and there was immense invisible
movement: gaunt booming, crashes, as if the underworld’s inferno Was being—or trying to stomp out a fire, or stop a stampede.
There was nothing natural here, the thinned nose of the seer split open,
lips writhed with no voice, as if in a spell.
It all frightened Eva; what was next?
Eva remained silent, awaiting the seers awakening, from her solitary
frozen enchantment—; to allow the journey to begin!
It was funny she thought, so very funny, how the fall leaves that laid upon
the ground, around the seer—once stiff, were now limp like dead Fish—they were the sluggish and familiar spirits, descended from the
The vaporous shadows needed to branch out, and so they did: in nearby
trees, in the fountain of granite stone—in the gables on top of the Castle, in a ravine, all forming life figures all remained russet, in their
invisible cocoons—needing something solid to create substance, Awaiting drifting in a green mist as if stepping out of the sea, drenched: Awaiting to take Eva down to Hades, perhaps even to taste her flesh.
cried in terror! It was as if two great beings held her tight. She felt her dress being jerked up, and her underclothing torn off. The heavy weight of just one of them came down on her, a hand over her mouth. His hot breath, smelling of wine and animal guts, blew into her face. Something came between her bare thighs, then a sudden, terrible pain burst up inside her, reaching her innermost body. She couldn’t talk, her throat muffled. His weight crushed the breath right out of her, the pain reached a peak, and then she started gasping and groaning, but the being just pushed further and further into her. It went on and on and on, until Eve felt she was drifting into a dark void, losing consciousness. Then he stopped. The weight lifted from her, she had lost all her strength, to fight to get back up off her back, then the other being, even stronger than the first, mounted her, even more violently than previously, “Oh god,” she cried, “not again!” Her legs were now stretched wider—unto the point of per near disjointing them: another inch—so she felt—would have been split her apart. The pressure inside of her, deepen, she passed out.
Sheol: land of the Dead
Eva heard this certain voice again, the husky voice, the one that was
trying to engulf her—the one called Agaliarept, the one that came down from the moon, the one that took her breath away, “Obey…!”
the voice said— cold it was—with no pity, likened to the moon’s Airless terrain—; and there about him many shadows pacing, and all the
unseen that had touched her, were forming a substance to their Shapes: said “Obey…and we shall take you down to see your brother,
who was also, once your lover!”
(And it was as if she became transparent, as if the air around her became Pale, and the high bred creature had a way to drain the atoms and molecules
out of the atmosphere and fasten them to his will, as if putting on a new Garments, this was her first step into Sheol; this spirit was restructuring her
In the House of Sheol
The underworld was truthfully that, a world underground; and Eva was
at present, on her way…
She witnessed much, endured insufferable heat, and she saw high
plateaus, flaming vapors, hooded demon, stagnate waters, decay.
A misty foulness reeked over the rocks by the pier—she tried to digest
it all, it choked her, growing more hateful at every step, it was an Intolerable masculine heartless world, she was invading.
This was a detestable land, with black slimy grey worms breeding under rocks, crawling out from under them with a thousand-legs.
Bones cracking, bodies being swung in the wind, dropped.
The stink was like a phallic odor, a vile plague of poisonous air being
breathed in and out in and out, repetitiously, endlessly…
“I think I’m going mad,” she told the voice in her mind, secretly.
Down, down, deeper into the darkness she was led; each step ghastly
spirits groaned, the old pushed away the new…they didn’t want Anything to spoil this magical moment.
Where was Ronda the seer, thought Eva, nowhere, really, really, nowhere
to be found; thus, she was learning: demons lie, like flies fly: every-Which-way, no matter what, its part of their nature. But she was right, There was much, much whimpering in the darkness, in what they in the
House of Sheol—
This was to Eva, nothing less than an alien life form, with little to no
garments, and those that had them, were of rat hides and worms Except for the elite: and she noticed they had a hierocracy.
She could feel her pulse bolt and skip a beat, stumble and stop!
Her diaphragm over working overwhelmed…she heard words, but they
had no meaning, unearthly…
Eyes, there were always strange looking eyes, staring: some trembling,
some unintelligible, all feasted upon her …
As they walked through the halls and corridors of the House of Sheol her
soul feeling as if it was voiceless, if not hollow! She cried: “I want to Go back, I don’t want any more of this, it is better to be a live dog on earth,
than a dead lion, down her—”
Hearing this, long black shadows shouted, mimicking her, turning the
abyss into a bouncing echo: here where no wind prevails, a little Tornado had come, Agaliarept’s wind, chasing every shadow out of The
sight of Eva…“Hurrah!” he said, “you haven’t seen your brother Yet?”
‘Ahem,’ her voice hummed, then she pondered: ‘Is it worth it?’
Eva now covered her face with her hands, wept, while Agaliarept the
demon, nearby was grinding his teeth, lifting his head in a snake like Manner, bellowing: “Bitch, bitch, bitch….” The sounds of his voice
echoing to the edge of the moon, and beyond…
Still grinding his teeth, gnawing at his forearm, he howled: “Give her his
brother! He is like us! Let her see, and let her believe.”
And so, Tyr, brought him to Agaliarept…
Sorrows of Sheol
(Dialogue of the Devils)
Several of the dead in one of the chambers were playing dirty tricks on a
Newcomer…who was howling like a dog…this was the land of
shriveled lilies, cradled with acid-dew air, —everywhere.
Lo! What words can one say? Sheol was nondescript.
Ere, the thought was blind, but they wanted from her, to hear, a word of
testament: a few syllables making up a word or two
Saying “Okay, I’ll stay,’ or just ‘Okay,’ might do, a word or two.
But she was no fool…she knew they cried for God, but he did not hear,
but, their souls were dead, not hers.
Agaliarept…reinforced the fact by saying, “God does not see or hear a
thing down here, his eyes are corroded, when it comes to us.”
“Us,” she murmured, she was not yet one of them.
Eva became breathless in fear they would soon force her again to their
But they wanted her cooperation—a word, just one word or two, tying her
forevermore to their domain, domicile, to their Sheol—just one or two Words of acceptance would do—unknowing, unaware, that the hours in
earth’s crust, were days on its surface, and her body was in need of Nourishment.
And they were using up her time: in the art of persuasion, as often they
do to wear a person down, then offer her whatever she’d want, for that Syllable, that one or two word ‘Okay’ and forevermore, she’d pay—
Eva felt as if she was under a shell of imbecility; this wanting to have seen
her brother no matter what, was now silly—
Especially knowing he was here…God forbid, what kind of thinking was
Then a strange looking creature came out—seemingly out of nowhere—
by the name of: Belgorod the Mediocre, a creature that looked like a Lion, with a human head attached! “If you break a promise, no one can Save you, down here,” he said. Why he said what he said, baffled the halls
With that, Agaliarept looked horrified at Belgorod: he had let the cat out
of the bag, he had told her in essence, there was a way out.
“Eh,” said Eva; saying no more than that, and no more than that had to be
She thought now, ‘He told me the secret.’
Belgorod’s yellow teeth showed his hideous and silly smirk—
“I mean, I’m sorry Agaliarept, I guess I slipped…” even demon’s can do
Eva made no answer to this, and her silence, was the response that they
didn’t want…because they knew she was thinking, and she could see Agaliarept’s scalp tighten, his veins in his temples protrude.
The Twenty-fifth Hour…
Agaliarept’s Last Monologue
“God has no pity,” said Agaliarept, Henchman of Hell: “it is better you join
us now than later, should you arrive later, we will be more harsh on You!”
“Blasphemy,” she cried.
“No, this is the truth,” said Agaliarept. “Everyday, 160,000-people die on
earth, and out of them, we get 155,000. There has been in my lifetime, Which is over 10,000-years, 105-billion births on earth; out of that earth
have had 460-wars. From these wars we lost over one billion lives, Which would have produced, another 10-billion souls to deal with, you
see we have done God a Favor—taken in most all of them—minus that Little percentage—and He, He has had no Pity on us.”
Eva was no longer listening…
The once sweet, now disdainful voice of her brother could be heard.
Then a husky spirit came dragging her brother by the hair, all around her
like a flying vampire—they flew “We have kept our word,” said Noyllopa. As if matters were settled.
“Did you know Eva,” said Tyr, when you lay in the courtyard with me, your
brother was among the many that lifting your legs, one who put fire Inside of you, after me? He was a snake on top of you, he likes being a snake!”
‘Oh,’ she thought, ‘if it is not desire they get fed by, it is hate they wish to
breed… and always a fraud…!’ “—by gosh,” she said out loud, “my brother must be insane living here!” She had had enough.
And as she looked above some high stones, she beheld her brother on
hands and knees, on a dog leash, barking.
“Stay here with me,” he cried, “they will treat me better.
She felt betrayed by life and death, both, but this was too much, it was
like rain breaking a blizzard
She had chills narrowing down to her shoulder-bones, and was about to
make an appeal…
A husky demonic being, the same spirit they called Otis the boat rower,
dragged her brother by the hair, whipping him with his leash, Commanding him to bark like a dog, dragging him all around her, like a fly
attached to his boots.
Eva knew there were many watching: awaiting to light the wick of
She drew herself to full height, her sobs broke, holding pride against
these disdained creatures, and her brother among them betraying her Right in front of them, hurt. She made her body look hard as if a weapon
in its sheath, a doubled-edged sword—
“Who stays down here, stays dead!” she exclaimed.
Her brother tried to pinch her breast, with slippery fingers and wet.
Eva anguished, prayed loud and clear: “All Almighty God, take me out of
“Whoo-whoo,” cried the devils, and the echo went: “Whoo-whoo,”
and the devils repeated these words, so the echo would not fade.
“Oh,” said one of the devils, “you can’t have her she came on her own.”
A voice blew through Sheol, shook its foundations… “She’s mine!!!” all
stood in silence, like Gomorra Stone…
And they mocked no more, escorted her to an empty door, told her to
walk through it, and there she stood once more in the courtyard…
And she heard from under the ground, the mimicking sound, an echo:
End of the Poetic Prose (Poem)
Notes by the author: History of the Poem: “The Fifth Moon” was originally put on the Internet Magazine, “The Eldritch Dark,” in
a site for Clark A. Smith. It was
originally written the third week of February, 2006; written in three parts,
identified as: part one and two #1213; and part three #1214. It was reedited
two times in 2010 (February and March).
Then revised and reedited, in April, 2012. Originally written in poetic
prose, then shifted a bit more to a dramatic
form of classical narration. The poem was original written at Barnes and Noble
bookstore, in Roseville, Minnesota. Part IV, “Sorrows of Sheol” was written in
April, of 2012, during the poems reediting and revision, #3317; and pieces to
part V were modified in 5-2012, (thus, this poem has been six-years in the
restructuring process, with several alterations). June, reedited again, 2012.
History of the Mosel River & Valley, and the Castle: I have traveled up and down the Valley, and its river banks, (in what was known back in the 1970s as West Germany), The castle I am referring to here is Burg Eltz, it is back in the hills on the other side of the Mosel River, probably the only castle you’ll ever walk down to. At your first glimpse, from the cliff, you can see it. It is far from the river and road, perhaps that is why it was not destroyed in past wars. It was built right after the Dark Ages, around AD 1160. Henry, son of the Duke called Henry the Lion of Saxony and Bavaria lived there from 1129-1195.