Bogleech.com's 2017 Horror Write-off:
Black Mother
Submitted by Nausicaa Harris
-- in the style of Matthew from my high school writing club --
You live and you die by the whim of the street
You're young and you're helpless; you've nothing to eat
You turn to the things that you've heard in the night
You hammer a sword from your grief and your fright
The palace of marble all shining and blue
Was attacked by an army and nobody knew
But the spirits who watch o'er their family down here
Alerted them still to the onslaught of fear
Black Mother, pass us by
Angels must feed on the streetlights to fly
Turn your face, we are not here
If fear's all you own then you own all your fear
Through fridge doors and mirrors and gravestones and spells
All demons find demons to fight with for Hell
Twelve, twenty-five, ninety-six, and he's gone
The king of the palace flew out with the dawn
A palm leaf as payment, laid out on a grave
Angels and lizards find children to save
The water is clear and the spirits find rest
To know how to get there is your only test
Blue Lady, send us aid
From starlight and seaspray and secrets she's made
The Good Man's dead, and won't return
The guttering candle still finds strength to burn
The man in the suit with the slick fleet of cars
Was thrown in the water in sight of the stars
He blackened and burned at the touch of the pure
But he always escapes: of that fact we are sure
Thrown down on the road of the moon by his foes
The Good Man was cut from his head to his toes
The soldier who fought with compassion and love
Now urges small soldiers to fight from above
Black Mother, pass us by
Angels must feed on the streetlights to fly
Turn your face, we are not here
If fear's all you own then you own all your fear
The Good Man is dead, but then who struck him down?
Was it the bright stars that looked down on the town?
Or was it the Mother who comes when you call
Who killed her own son and would soon kill us all?
Black Mother is real if you summon her power
Created by fear in a dangerous hour
When you assign meaning to that which has none
You've got answers at last -- but what answers have come?
Blue Lady, send us aid
From starlight and seaspray and secrets she's made
The Good Man's dead, and won't return
The guttering candle still finds strength to burn