OuijaA Poem by Adam Latham Ouija A cold oppressive malice fell Upon the room as outside roared A howling gale, a soundtrack to Three girls beside a Ouija board. Three little sisters, six, eight, ten, Up past their bedtime, dead of night. Sat in a circle bleary eyed, Their faces washed in candlelight. The elder sibling's trembling hand Dropped on the planchette, slowly met By four more fingers from her kin Each coated in a film of sweat. A sharp intake of breath and then "Are any spirits present here, We seek a soul we lost too soon Our now departed mother dear." One voice turned quickly to a choir As all three children without pause Demanded from that rosewood board A peek through otherworldly doors. Five minutes passed, so too five more But still the planchette would not slide, The youngest child now fighting tears Her disappointment hard to hide. When suddenly out of the blue, A welcome reprieve from the stress, The planchette jerked and glided left Up to the spot that spelled out YES. A loud collective gasp escaped Their mouths to see that pointer bob, Then race across the polished wood To spell out quickly "I am Hob." But shock was very soon displaced By squeals of joy, a sense of pride, Their beaming smiles a just reward For contact with the other side. With hearts now thumping in their chests A palpitating hope filled throb, The middle child leaned in and asked "Who are you please sir, Master Hob?" A short-lived pause then quick again In playful fashion quite bizarre, The planchette skipped across the board "My dear, I am the Morning Star. I am the bearer of the torch, The herald of the fiery dawn, Who rises in the eastern sky And shepherds in the coming morn. I am the Captain of the Gate, Admitting souls at my command. His most exalted of the host, I sit upon the Lord's right hand. Your mother, yes, she tarries here Bathed in eternal love and light. All heaven richer for her soul, All angels sing her name in flight. In fact she stands beside me now Enrobed in glory, illness free. Her only heartache three small babes She misses now so terribly. But wallow not in your despair Your mother asks, this is the gist, Go over to your father's desk And with his flick knife slit your wrist. For then the walls of our two worlds May be dissolved and once again, You and a mother whom you miss Can be together free from pain." The eldest child removed her hand Recoiling at the strange request, A seed of doubt sown in her mind About their paranormal guest. "Our mother would not wish us harm In this life or the one to come, The soul you claim to represent Does not sound like our caring mum. Who are you really, Master Hob? I sense a spirit spawned in hell Who never once has roamed those halls Of heaven where our loved ones dwell." A violent scratching filled the room As on the vibrant red veneer The planchette gouged into the wood And made a pentagram appear. "Provoke me not to anger, child. Believe me when I tell you this, The arcane powers I possess Project beyond the great abyss. I am the rightful king of kings, Now do exactly as I say. Resist and be in no doubt, child, I shall compel you to obey." The youngest, unafraid, jumped up Defiance blazing in her eyes. "We sought the soul of our sweet mum, Instead we found the prince of lies. You have no power over us, We don't believe you, do your worst." The youngest child began to choke, "So be it last-born, you die first." © 2022 Adam LathamReviews
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5 Reviews Added on August 8, 2022 Last Updated on August 23, 2022 Author
Adam LathamStoke-on-Trent, United KingdomAboutHi. My name is Adam, I'm 46 years old and I live in the gloriously dull city of Stoke-on-Trent in the United Kingdom. more..Writing
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