People of God, good afternoon. I have been absent for a while now, and for this, I am sorry. I can’t make promises because I will most likely break them but I will say that whenever I am free (which will most likely be weekends), I will try my best to entertain you whichever way I can.
Today, I am posting a poem. You must be wondering where Gloss 1 is. It is in redor.wordpress.com which is owned by @VegaPunk (formerly @Paetir) and was written by @Blaqnyght who has permitted me to post this on my blog even though he did not send me message to write part 2 for him. My wahala is much. I know. I was just so inspired by Gloss 1 that I did not rest till I wrote Gloss 2. I hope I have not demeaned the original and that it meets even if only half of Blaqnyght’s. I don’t know how to insert links so I am sorry but you all will manually have to go to Redor to look for it.
Try to read the part 1 too and tell me if it fits/follows. Thanks.
I talk too much abi? This talkativeness is what put me in trouble some hours ago. I just don’t learn, do I?
And for today’s feature presentation, we have noble Paetir with his offering; of the gods and of Ragnorak, of murder and twisted souls..
It is said that a true ripper never dies.
He will surely come back,
To reclaim life once lost,
One that may no longer be his to take,
But he doesn’t care, he will take it anyway
For you see, the ripper is always at war
He has never known peace
For peace is as alien to him as the sanctity of life
Everything alive must one day die
For what is the worth of a life?
If it cannot be taken with the swing of a sword..
Another sits on his throne
He claims right to the throne by birth
But now he’s trapped.
Now he has to make do with what he has.
And who says he can’t have some little fun?
Men worship gods
But gods must serve man
For a god is a manifestation of man’s dreams
And heights he will most likely aspire to
Dreams are what they are
I am god.
He creeps around in the dark
Creep Creepy little weevil
I bear the brunt of his revenge, for he is Cain.
The sun might just rise a little too sooner than the 6th hour.
A blood sucking duckling he was
A man of striking and destructive worth
He awoke from thousands ofyears in slumber
He roared at his throne from the pits as a disgraced dragon.
Her name was Trina
A girl in her teens who loved older men
They were after all more understanding
She lived her life as she saw fit.
Mr. Mark had just moved in next door
With his wife Vivian and daughter Margaret
They were a strange bunch
They kept to themselves.
Trina liked him,
Trina liked older men.
The Norse ‘deified’ ideals of strength.
He deified extremes instead
Pushing the envelope
Testing the boundaries of chance
This is the life he chose.
Mr. Mark was always home
He never went out
So naturally he was the first stop when Trina needed to do her math homework
She knocked, ‘Come in’ He said
On the 14th day of May 2013 they fucked.
He kept screaming ‘Ragnarok. Ragnarok. Ragnarok’ as he came
Trina watched him in awe,
He made love to her like no other
He took her to heights of pleasure
Heights she never even imagined existed.
He was the perfect lover,
He had a very weird smile, one she had never seen before, one she would never forget.
Let he who is free test the wrath of the father
For freedom seeks bondage after all.
The devil slumbers,maniac awakens
He pisses on family
He was asleep while you did it,
But yet, he pisses on memory.
Mr. Mark woke up that night,
Strangled his wife in her sleep
And hit his daughter in the head till he could see her brains pop out like ice-cream
He waited till his family bled to death while he watched his favorite tv show.
Then at exactly 6am in the morning he screamed and barged out of his house.
‘Trina Trina’ He kept shouting, he had no idea why,
In a few seconds he was at Trina’s, hitting at the door furiously.
When she opened the door, she was as shocked as the words that refused to escape her mouth.
She saw Mr. Mark in blood stained clothes, eyes blood red, she let out a harrowing scream.
‘Trina it’s me, it’s me’
Immediately Trina’s dad came in and tackled Mr. Mark below the waist, they tumbled across the front porch and down the stairs.
A scuffle ensued and the two men were left struggling for their lives while Trina watched in horror
‘Who are you? ’ Mr. Mark asked.
They all thought he was insane, maybe he was, they had never really known him.
All these crazy people that their Landlord let in his house. One had finally turned on them.
After a few minutes, the police came along and whisked Mr. Mark away like a stray dog.
The whole neighborhood was abuzz , a man had after all murdered his family and tried to do the same to his neighbors.
It was a good day to be a journalist in town.
“Cain, a maniac.
Dog as a devil deified, lived as a god.”
That evening, Trina’s family ate in fear.
They talked in hushed tones.
Trina’s father seemed to be in a particularly good mood.
While they were eating, He flashed a smile at Trina and said ‘Ragnarok, I know what you did yesterday’
Trina was shocked, she began to shiver where she sat, she had never heard her father say ragnarok and she definitely recognized that smile, that weird smile, the one Mr. Mark had on his face after he made love to her, confused she began to stutter.
She lost consciousness.
Loki smiled to himself, he enjoyed playing games with humans, as they usually entertained him. For what was the use of living as mere mortal if he couldn’t have some fun eh?
Don’t answer that.
But then he rushed to get her up and to the hospital, after all he was her father right?
LOKI = Norse God of Deception and Chaos.
In case you don’t get what happened, Loki was Mr. Mark, he slept with Trina, murdered Mr. Mark’s family and somehow transferred his consciousness to Trina’s father’s body leaving Trina’s father’s consciousness in Mr. Mark’s body to take the fall. Confusing shey? Don’t worry, now go read it again.