Noveen (A Tribute To Duma Key By Stephen King) . Poem by Derrick Andrews

The, truth, it lies,
In those shoe-button eyes,
In that innocent disguise,
As the strange heron flies,

On that red-orange horizon,
Towering high like Poseidon,
Floats the dead ship, invitin',
Lost souls for a ride and,

Propelling forth, through the ocean of your mind,
Is a dark, heavy mist, that renders all blind,
Til' disasters occur, that kill off mankind,
From a pen, duly red, look close and you'll find,
That the fear never truly escapes from your mind,

That lifeless, boneless corpse,
Telling tales of black dwarfs,
Disappearing, of course,
To another place it warps,

That Persephone will claim you, is a matter of time,
Her revenge as bittersweet, as a tart, green lime,
But that fruit never once was that color of slime,
It was red, and it shone through the test of time,

As the rotten hands splash in the putrid, rank sea,
That surrounded it all, on old Duma Key,
Perse laughs at their anguish, maniacally,
And then, sets her sights, yet again, upon me,

If I ever once in my life felt fear,
It was only when I knew she was near,
Those long fingernails of hers, cut like a shear,
Plowing into my right arm, that didn't seem to be here,
And all at once I had a thought, so plain, so clear,
That the only reason I breathe is 'cause Persephone's here.