An Evening at Home in an Alien World

I.

Sent forth with hope from a world in peril,
the Traveler flees masses destitute,
their leaders immoral, their lands sterile,
nations embroiled in violent dispute.

In a last gasp to save humanity
with no where on this defiled earth to turn,
the decision is made with gravity
to search unplumbed space for Eden unborn.

The journey is lengthy and treacherous
but as spirits wane a blue-green orb looms,
boasting oceans and forests generous.
For humans, the seed of salvation blooms.

The promises of renewed life abound,
a new home on an alien land found.

II.

A new home on an alien land found,
settled between edge of wood and meadow.
The traveler’s struggle is richly crowned,
an omen of a hope-filled tomorrow.

To shelter the unknown world’s new squatter,
his grounded space vessel serves as homestead.
Void-defying fortified walls make her
secure, a safe cocoon to rest one’s head.

Backed by darkened wood, the abode presides
over bubbling brook, oceans of grass bent
by soft winds. Pastoral views on three sides
leave the traveler peaceful and content.

No one would expect in scene so gentle
the scent of danger in forest feral.

III.

The scent of danger in forest feral
wafts upon the breeze, emitting a sour
stench worn as some exotic apparel.
Disregarded in the evening hour

by a weary Traveler, the portent
passes as he relaxes unaware.
With vital defenses lying dormant,
he reclines in the field, without a care

as storm clouds gather, darkening the sky.
Caught up short, the Traveler’s pulse quickens
when from the forest a devil’s shrill cry
shatters the calm. His contentment sickens.

The ungodly din, making his heart pound,
heralds evil creeping from under-ground.

IV.

Heralds, evil creeping from under-ground,
proclaim their heinous intent: drain the chi
from the Traveler; to corner, confound
and consume, maximum terror the key.

Fear-hungry demon-dogs surge as a pack,
leeching vigor from his endangered soul.
The unseen onslaught begins. They attack,
his reason draining slowly from the whole

of his being. Blended rage and sadness
pervade his thoughts wrenched from the unconscious.
The Traveler, threatened with sheer madness,
labors to clear his mind before monstrous

failure. The margin for safety minute,
the prey tries to flee, killers in pursuit.

V.

The prey tries to flee, killers in pursuit.
Demon-dogs descend, his mind nigh undone
as the barrage of teeth rip to the root.
Surrounded, hopeless, with nowhere to run,

the Traveler collapses in despair.
The attempt to escape has come to naught,
his only prayer: to wake from this nightmare,
to find strength to fight in a soul distraught.

He curls inward seeking a foundation
on which his quivering spirit might stand.
Memories of loved ones, his salvation,
bridge misery to hope, the soul chasm spanned.

He knows he won’t survive the status quo.
Faltering, he must rise to meet his foe.

VI.

Faltering, he must rise to meet his foe.
The Traveler, with a renewed resolve,
struggles upward, summons the strength to throw
dread aside, the fog of fear to dissolve.

Rabid demon-dogs in manic death dance
close in for the kill, howl in victory.
Tormented, he strikes out at their advance,
powerless against spectral witchery.

Summoning courage he knew not before
this evil trial began, his brutal
blows meet empty air, only underscore:
escape is hopeless, to resist futile.

One chance remains to avoid the pursuit:
reach safe harbor before his soul lies mute.

VII.

Reach safe harbor before his soul lies mute
is the despondent Traveler’s last hope.
He breaks with desperation absolute
toward his craft, secure once within its scope.

Slipping past the relentless demon-dogs
he lunges across the threshold worn out.
Barely moving, with a prayer to his gods
he reaches to deliver the knockout.

Doors slam down, the enemy to subdue,
as the space ship’s defenses activate.
Ghostly foes pummel walls, fail to break through,
though the din of despair does not abate.

Trapped forever within his steel burrow,
hopeless, he yields to eternal shadow.

VIII.

Hopeless, he yields to eternal shadow.
He must remain locked beyond demon’s reach.
A new world no longer can he bestow,
and so his shame does his honor impeach.

The Traveler’s hopes and dreams lie tattered
as he cowers behind the barricade
in contemptible fear, his mind battered.
For this journey, with his life he has paid.

Who can salvage the refuse of his soul?
He moans: “Fuck every one. Fuck every thing!”
The battle has taken its monstrous toll:
bitter the pain, unbearable the sting.

He lies, consumed by fear and wrapped in hate,
alone in darkness, resigned to his fate.

IX.

Alone in darkness, resigned to his fate,
rage roils under thin veneer of control.
Impotence oozes up to permeate
every thought as reason starts to unroll.

Shame of ineptitude gnaws at edges
of wit, eroding fragile foundation.
For all posterity, failure etches
tragic fall from hero to damnation.

While darkest night has proven flight and fist
useless, walls of steel keep demons at bay.
Cornered alone is no way to exist.
Remembering ship’s weapon locked away,

he resolves to stop his fall from the heights:
the barrel rises, the trigger invites.

X.

The barrel rises, the trigger invites,
the Traveler imagines his escape.
Too many guises and too many fights
blemish formerly beautiful landscape.

Once forested with promise, hills now stripped
bare, bereft of purpose, robbed of allure.
A romantic fairy tale gone off script,
second-rate improv that took a detour

into tragedy. Raw unfocused rage
worms through lonely heartache, stirs righteous zeal.
How can death’s veil fall mid-act on grand stage
before happy ever after glows real?

Onto this scene hope limps with awkward gait.
The final solution will have to wait.

XI.

The final solution will have to wait.
Beguiled by endless peace, chosen and swift,
from where does this thirst for life emanate?
Is imprint of past love enough to gift

the condemned will to wake each aimless morn?
To pan for gold glimmer in hollow soul?
To grasp for lifeline in rough seas forlorn?
Or is the answer in a trigger pull?

Outside something stirs as the sun rises.
He stops. The act cannot be completed.
Peering in bulwarks mirrored, the eyes his,
he perceives the danger has retreated.

In the dawn, reason with peace reunites.
Evil has fled to return future nights.

XII.

Evil has fled to return future nights.
The barrel can fall with trigger untouched.
Faded and senseless are evening’s fights
as walls lift with the light, hope tightly clutched.

Demons skulk back to woods from where they came,
retreating in the blaze of sun to leave
the lone traveler to deal with his shame.
Disappointment and embarrassment weave

masquerade bereft of vitality.
Fire within gutters, sputters, will not quit.
With dawning day returns normality
but in regained hope he has to admit

truth of darkness he cannot disavow.
Beware: monsters of the fringe do not bow.

XIII.

Beware monsters of the fringe. Do not bow.
The Traveler could easily give in
but to persevere is to live, for now.
To brink of sanity he was driven,

peace riven from triumph, leaving only
isolation through this dark episode.
Relentless taunts: why go on? Unholy
query continues to harry and goad.

Although immediate danger has passed,
shadow persists its siren melody,
lures the downcast, outcast, those with hopes slashed
to keep them trapped in fearful destiny.

Confronted with foul enticement, somehow
live anew in reply, his final vow.

XIV.

Live anew in reply, his final vow.
To seek salvatory grace of lighthouse
peering from fathomless fog will endow
purpose upon existence, indeed, rouse

hopeful whisper of life stirring once more.
Spring blooms from garden put to winter rest,
a hint of resurrection to restore
dormant faith previously unexpressed.

Believe every life worthy of savior,
or be damned no matter where we travel.
Believe the dead can rise from dark chamber
and despair’s grip bemuse and bedazzle.

He carries on, denies demons their ill,
sent forth with hope from a world in peril.

XV.

Sent forth with hope from a world in peril,
a new home in an alien land found.
The scent of danger in forest feral
heralds evil creeping from under-ground.

The prey tries to flee, killers in pursuit.
Faltering, he must rise to meet his foe,
reach safe harbor before his soul lies mute.
Hopeless, he yields to eternal shadow.

Alone in darkness, resigned to his fate,
the barrel rises, the trigger invites…
the final solution will have to wait.
Evil has fled to return future nights.

Beware: monsters of the fringe do not bow.
Live anew in reply, his final vow.

©2018 Kenneth W. Arthur