The Lantern Poem by Ben Millstead

The Lantern



As the old, dirty ship floated towards the bank.
Moss and slim covered every plank.
'Iv not been to London in years'.
I murmured as my heart sank.

'If I'd not seen you, you would'nt of seen it in longer Sir'.
The sailor replied, thought its true as it were.
Getting closer to the bank, emotions of mine started to stir.
As it seems, I always find my way back here, its like a lure.

'In these familiar streets, I see shadows lurking'.
'Shadows Sir? but the streets are empty' he said while shirking.
'Not shadows.....ghosts' I said as the to the sailor.
Eyes wider than an owls, the sailor stopped smirking.

As the ship touched the dock, and everyone stepped on land.
'Iv not heard your name yet Sir', 'Because I have not said it'
'Forgive me young sailor, but I do not have time to just stand'
'If you want to talk to someone you know Sir, I'll be here on the sand'

As I walk the streets of London, I'v not been here in a decade.
Hearing glass crack under my foot, I peared down to see what it was.
It was a lantern, 'must've fallen off the chariot here for the stockade'
Picking it up, it reminded me of where I've been '10 years I rotted in jail,10 years in a 4 by 4 blockade'

These once familiar streets hold many memories, good and bad.
'London, the city where beggers and kings are always mad'
There are not many people who arnt angry here, and those who arnt are sad.
I sit at a fountain, covered in a sort of lilly pad.

Though Im not sick, Im also not well.
Its raining, but Im sweating so much I feel like Im in hell.
With every seperate fading water drop, a new memory arises to tell.
The cold breeze, my hands are so numb I shiver but the lantern dropped and fell.

'Would you like a place to stay Sir? you seem in need? '.
Picking up the lantern I accidentally cut myself, and begin to bleed.
'Come now Sir I'll give you a place to stay for the night, just follow I'll lead'.
'I dont think you want my kind near you Ma'am, I'v just been freed'

As I follow her I realize she does not have a ring on her finger.
'Ma'am you dont know my name, why do you want to me my caretaker? '
'Any man would need help if they just got back from being a rock breaker'
'I dont have a huge house, Im just a bread maker'.

Arriving at her house, we stepped inside.
The house wasnt huge like she said, but it was more then 4 by 4 wide.
'Sorry Sir but I only have one bed, and the floor is wet from the big tide'
I know she wasnt a bread maker, I know she lied.

'I'll go make us food, make yourself at home'.
As I light the lantern, I heard a bang.
Pearing down the hallway, bloody trails and a loud groan.
Holding the lantern, I see a man with a pipe thats bloody and chrome.

Making sure I'm close enough, without him knowing.
I swing the lantern, almost throwing.
Glass and flame scatter along his face.
With every seperate dieing ember, the more familiar is showing.

Standing there in shock, as the blood faded away.
I know what I'v done, I'v found a cursed lantern on this day.
I bend down to see if shes dead, resting a hand on her belly.
I feel something kick, this young lady had a baby on the way.

Grabbing the lantern, and running out the door.
With every step, a new bloody print on the floor.
Out the window, darkness is all I saw.
I light the lantern to see, I didnt care anymore.

Running to the docks, it begins to rain.
The lantern dies out, I'll never light it again.
But the sailor see's me, and offers me inside.
I begin thinking that im not insane.

Sitting at the table, I start telling him this fable.
He offers me tea, so I calm down and feel stable.
He leaves the room, and is gone for awhile.
In shock, the lantern is gone he wanted to see if it was able.

The pot starts to whistle, he was not in the room.
The lantern is lit, and over by the broom.
From around the corner, a shadow is a loom.
Flat against the wall, with a weapon I assume.

I call out to the young sailor, to no reply.
I know what he see's me as but I dont want to die.
I pick up the knife, as he turns to kill me or to try.
But misses, as I stab him in the thigh.

He collapses to the floor, and crawls to the wall.
I watch him try to stand, but he will always fall.
Dropping the knife, I turn to run.
But something, a breeze of sorts made me stall.

It was not a regular breeze, more like a guilty wind.
I know if I run, its back to jail for I'v sinned.
Locking the door and grabbing the lantern.
Throwing it at the wall, as the sailor grinned.

The wall on fire, no where to go.
I grab the sailor and hold him down, angerier and scarier he begins to grow.
The house on fire with only us left to burn.
I tell him my names 'Krow', and this is the greatest pain he will ever know.

Saturday, August 30, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: sorrow
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Gajanan Mishra 30 August 2014

very heart touching, I love it, thanks.

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