Poetry by Krystianna

Nightmare

Oh how can eyes see the day
When dawn is so far away?
When black clouds come rolling forth
To block the day's renewal birth?
When the moon is shadowed behind the clouds,
Man's fears become without a doubt,
The worst Nightmare, it has come true,
And roams freely without her noose.
She roams unbound throughout the endless night,
Terrorizing all who hide in fright.
But will there ever be,
A knight in shining armor to set free
The unwilling souls met with gloom
From the Nightmare's impending doom?

She is a centuar, though not that any has seen,
Reshaped by darkness that changed her entire being.
For 'neath scraggly black tresses rests two yellow orbs,
With snake-like pupils that see through doors.
From her long horse back sprouts dragon's wings,
In which darkness seems to cling.
'Neath bold black lips hide vicious fangs,
More than ready to drink man's blood.
She is jet black, throughout her being,
Except for her lighter bellies, face and claws.

This hellish fiend grabs victims with claws
That sprout from her fingers; she'll never pause,
From wrecking havoc amoung the lands
That border her captive bands.
With her noose broke,
And her caretaker dead,
What will happen now
To those filled with dread?

The Knight in Shining Silver has heard the Call
From the One Who Hears It All,
Whom infoms him of the people who pray for the fall
Of the one who has heard Lucifer's call.
He saddles his white steed so bold,
Whose muscules ripple like quicksilver so told.
They manuver through half-seen obstucles in the night
Following the Lord's unwavering Light.

He reaches the Nightmare's most recent pillage,
Finding her in the center of the village.
She plundges her fangs into a victim's screaming neck,
Drinking his life's blood without knowing the debt.

Enraged, the knight draws his sabre,
The Sword of Light, and spins it 'round.
Nightmare is distracted; She hates that sword
And all it stands for.
She drops her victim, her hatred is trained
Upon the Knight of the Sword of Light
And his role of her demise.
Battering onlookers with dragonic wings,
She charges the knight with a wild screech
Bent on tearing off his helmeted head
And drinking his faith-filled blood.
But he had foreseen this tactic,
And guides his fearless horse away from her clucthes.
She races past, and turns with a hiss of distaste
At missing her target on her inishal rush.
The knight spins his sword, urging his steed forward
To meet the charging Nightmare to plundge his sword
Into her flesh and bones
And end her haunting of God's terrified people.

She rushes at him, aiming for his steed
Aiming to cripple him at his knees.
He does not foresee this, and he falls
Into the blood-filled mud.
Nightmare cackles with glee
And says with greed:
"You wil never win, son of the Lord,
For you will fall like the millions before!"
But he is not swayed; he trusts the Lord,
And rises from the muk, branishing his sword
And charges the Nightmare with a wild cry,
And swiftly prays:
"Oh, Lord of Heaven, help me through
This time of peril, of need,
And help me defeat this Hell-bore fiend!"
The Sword fo Light flashes with redeeming beams,
And the Nightmare falls screaming to her knees.
Before the final blow is given,
The Knight in Silver says to the Nightmare:
"Do you believe in the Lord above
Who will give you unconditional love?"
With a snarl and twisted face
The Nightmare says without brace:
"Your Lord is nothing but a tyrannic fantacy.
Why should I listen to his blaphestry?"
"You damned, hellish fiend!
How can you ignore the Ligth of Redeemed?!"
With the Lord's anger emmiting from the sword,
The Silver Knight beheads his foe.

Her broken corpse falls to the ground,
And a cheer arises from the crowd.
They clammor and crowd the Knight of Silver,
But he is not pleased.
"How can you thank me for this defeat,
When the Lord Above is to thank for this feat?!"
His anger confuses the crowd,
But they realize he is correct,
And bow their heads and direct
Their thanks to the Lord
For the liberation He had brought upon them.

But this is only a small number of people
Bowing to pray;
But what of the rest of the world
Who refuse to pray?
They are haunted by multiple Nightmares,
But with no repieve,
Nor the Savior to light the way.
They are lost, beyond His reach,
But uses us to breach
Their barriers of steel and teach
Against the Nightmares, slaying each
To bring Heaven's Eternal Gift:
The Gift of Life, we do preach,
So that the world can be saved.
Amen.

Krystianna's Portfolio

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About Krystianna

Krystianna lives in Missouri, USA.

Krystianna is a 17 year old teen with artistic talent in many fields. The preacher at my church calls me "the town's artist," though I'd like to disagree. (Actually, we're not even a town, we're a village of the highway called Cairo [kay-row]). Anyway, my spare time is used drawing, reading, writing, or something with videogames or internet. I'm trying to write a couple books...Though that endeavor is going to take a while to accomplish.