CURSE OF THE CRIMSON ALTAR



A cursed altar stands
In the middle of a stunted forest,
Greystone, awash in blood
The alter is an evil behest.

A behest from Satan himself
To the people of this Godless town,
In the hope that they would blaspheme
And after death would head straight down.

A magic circle is drawn around
Using the altar as its cone of power,
Then evil rituals are performed
At midnight: the witching hour.

Goblins, gremlins, haemovores
Prance around the crimson altar,
Frolicking through an evil dance
That they must perform without falter.

Satan, Asmodeus, and Iscaron
Do an evil dance of malice,
Then start to drink human blood
From a golden chalice.

Human villagers watch in terror
Lucifer, Mammon, and Leviathan,
Lurching clumsily around the alter
Bringing disasters down upon Man.

Satan, Belphegor, Beelzebub
Kali, incubus, and succubus,
Sway flauntingly near the humans
Driving them crazy with lust.

Abadon, Belial, and Sathanas
Begin to shake and prance,
Around the evil crimson altar
All kinds of demons prance.

A fallen priest performs rights
Within the dead of an awful night,
Calling up the hound of Hell
To carouse until daylight.

THE END
© Copyright 2021, Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia

About this poem

A cursed altar stands In the middle of a stunted forest, Greystone, splattered in blood The alter is an evil behest.

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Written on August 01, 2021

Submitted by PHIL_ROBERTS on October 02, 2021

Modified on March 05, 2023

59 sec read
6

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABCX XDXD XEXE AEFE DXCX EXEX XAXB AFEF XGXG XXX
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 1,162
Words 197
Stanzas 10
Stanza Lengths 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 3

Phil Roberts

I turn 65 on the 31st of January 2022. I love cats, rock music, and horror fiction and poetry more…

All Phil Roberts poems | Phil Roberts Books

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