The Idler, The Glutton, and The Sound

This is for a project I'm involved in, consisting of fairy tales gone dark. This is my interpretation of The Three Little Pigs.

The Idler sits
Inside a house
With eyes hollow
Bone-dry white
Into a virgin horizon 

His ambitions collect dust
As the sun & moon scorn him
With their every rise & fall 

Click-clack!...Click clack!
The tapping of a beast approaches
Its claws sharper than the scythe of Death 
Demanding the Idler to pay his dues

“Face me, boy!” the beast drums into the night
“Let me in”

With vacant eyes still, the Idler slams shut his door
And so the beast made its way inside with ruthless ease
As if the structure were a mere pile of straw
And tore the boy limb-from-limb 
***
The Glutton eats
Inside a house
His scent filthy
Thick

Grime decorates his hands
His walls stained with the putrid stink 
Of indulgence

Click-clack!...Tick-tock!
The tapping of a beast stalking
Its shadow a colossal doom, closing in
Demanding the Glutton to wash away his sin

“Face me, boy!” the beast tears into the night
“Let me in”

With still a laden belly of greed, the Glutton slams shut his door
And so the beast made its way inside with grim ease
As if the structure were a mere pile of sticks
And swallowed the boy whole 
***
The Sound bleeds nobly from his hands
Atop a tower 
That is regal
And proud 

Click-clack!...Click-clack!
The tapping of a beast hungry
Its thirst awash with blood
Demanding the Sound to submit 

“Face me!” the beast bellows into the night 
“Let me in”
“Then come claim me”, the Sound retorts

And so the beast ascends
With rabid quickness
Though the Sound remains firm

The beast lunges, its maw a rosy-crimson
Dripping 

Still hardy, the Sound requites 
Determination, his sword
Endeavors, his shield 
Guts the beast with triumphant glory

And wears its skin as a fitting crown

2013 Vincent Cuccolo