The Rush

The Rush

A Poem by LadyRosaline

The Rush, The Devils, The Desert


The Rush sails the sands

And combs the dunes for devils

Though hot, it’s not hell


Pitchfork havin’ beasts

Fork-tongued, forlorn, fiendish

Weep while we wither!


The damned devils lurk,

Scrawl across the sands their marks,

“There is no God here!”


God prayed to the Rush,

“Be valiant on your voyage”

Wept! Then crossed herself.


Night Falls and the Rush Prays for Sleep


Scorcher turned to frost

The great star burst to diamonds

No light, no warmth: Dark!


His heart goes thump thump

As it pumps and pumps and pumps

If it quits, he’ll die


“Rush?” Mikka Maw Cawed.

“What?” inquired the Rush, wild eyed.

“Our quest: a mirage.”

“Sleep, steal me swiftly.

My mind marauds to madness!

How I long for peace!”


Hoorah! cheered the men

Fin'ly a devil's captured

Next comes the torture


The Rush inspects it

Makes notes of its dead figure

And curses its corpse


Odd the demon seemed

Like nothing he'd ever seen

Describes it thusly: 

It's head strangely clad

With some jutting silken strands

All are lustrous threads.

Jewels! Jewels! The Rush thought

Two precious orbs in its face

They shine in the light.


Rows of square-cut bones,

Two, beneath the cheek and nose

Pearl white and pretty.

© 2013 LadyRosaline

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Added on July 2, 2013
Last Updated on July 2, 2013



Read, write, and be read, but always be yourself, for your voice is yours alone and originality can be found within, if no where else... Writing is an expression. I know, I can hardly read that sta.. more..