narrative poetry – Nickolaus King

Lost Siblings

I lie awake in the orphanage bed,
The songs have been sung and the prayers have been read.
The kindly sisters have kissed our brows
And tucked us in to let us drowse.

I thought I heard you gently rise;
It stopped my heart to realize
That soft, tickling sound like the trickle of slobber
Is the cool, soothing croon of the Cradle Robber.

Pulling the covers up over my head,
I strain my ears with a gathering dread
Hoping you’ll argue or tell him to go
And swim for your life from his song’s undertow.

But no, you get up, and start to climb out.
I want to scream, or sob, or shout,
But all I can do is cry in my pillow
As you both slip away and go play in the willows.

Our adopter is coming; didn’t you know?
Couldn’t you wait for the new morning’s glow,
To fall laughing into his welcoming arms
And live there forever secure and unharmed?

And now the Robber is luring me too.
I’m lying here scared, I don’t know what to do.
Can’t you come back like a prodigal waif
To comfort us all and remind us we’re safe?

The Evergreen Garden

I used to dance in the Evergreen Garden
Where the Gardener played music and sang
But I ran away from the Evergreen Garden
I’m lost and I can’t find my way.

The pure snow was sleeping, the fence-lights were twinkling,
The Gardener sang his sweetest songs.
I twisted and tumbled and still sprang up singing,
The world was all rights and no wrongs.

Till I came to a cavern outside of the Garden
And played in the mud with my hands.
The Gardener hurried and came near to cleanse me
But I kicked him and bit his hand.
Bit his hand! Bit his hand!
I left him when I bit his hand.

I wish I could dance in the Evergreen Garden,
But the dirt and the filth cling to me.
I’ll never go back to the Evergreen Garden,
Down here I can never be free.

I came to the cave and descended down deeply,
My music became the bats’ wings.
My cold body shudders, my stomach is starving,
My heart is too bitter to sing.

I’m buried down here in rocky pitch-darkness,
I’ve sunk far too low to be saved.
The shadows and silence will be my pallbearers,
I’ve laid myself down in my grave.

But now I see a light and it’s piercing the darkness,
A scar-covered hand takes my own.
A voice says, “Come quickly, don’t fear now, my child.”
For I’ll make your hands like the snow.
Like the snow! Like the Snow!
I’ll make your hands white like the snow.

And we’ll dance again in the Evergreen Garden,
Much better than what was before.
Yes, we’ll dance again in the Evergreen Garden,
And far greater joy we will know.

And far greater joy we will know.”

Lost Little King

I was a lost little king
In a kingdom of velvet
All covered with gold
And pearls that shone.
A lovely land of leisure,
All of my own making
Resting on the shifting sand.

But then a far, foreign king
In a castle of crimson
Demanded that I
Should pay him dues.
A laughable proposal
For I was my own master
So I refused to yield my land.

Then that far, foreign king
Sent his army of warriors
To capture my crown
And take my throne.
I battled with bloodlust,
Slaughtering his soldiers,
Taking my defiant stand.

And then the far foreign king
Sent silver-tongued ambassadors
To speak sweetest words
And entice me on.
I laughed as I gave them
Over to the jailers,
My executioner’s heavy hand.

But then the far foreign king
From the castle of crimson
Sent his only son
To take my place.
He shattered my self-centeredness,
Staggered by his steadfastness,
How great the length his love has spanned.

Now I’m a pleased little prince
In the castle of crimson,
All flowing with rivers
That glow with life.
Happy as a subject,
Singing as a servant
To everything my King has planned.