When I was a boy,
a small poor boy.
One night my parents did die.
Nobody told us how they died,
But they did one terrible night.
So we were sent away
My sister and I
to a town called terror,
with fright.

We were alone the whole way
Nobody did say
Where was this town of dread.
Though we were both told
That while in this horrible cove.
“watch out,
Or you might end up dead”

When we got there we saw
That there was a law
That you could not go down
to the sea.
For the town was by the shore
And the breakers did roar,
Beat, crash, scream, pound,
and mock
that heightly shore.

The sea was the enemy
Here in this town
This town called terror was frightful
Even during the day
It scared sea-gulls away
For it wasn’t so cheery
Nor brightful.

So, my sister and I
Though we didn't know why
Were sent to live in a tower
In the tower with a man
A horrid old man
For fear was his only social power.





On the inside
Who could know?
Maybe there was snow
On that frozen heart of his
Maybe something had died
Family friends or just bride
To ruin his joy
His will to live.

He was wise
And old boned
But always alone
He spoke only to tell us away
I felt bad for the man
And we said “If we can,
we will help him feel better each day”

But our efforts were fruitless
The matter of truth is
a man doesn’t truly
‘change his ways’
He simply says
Once into better days
That he will try to forget
his past sins.

He avoided my caring
My sister’s sweet love
(for she loved everyone that she met)
He used the townspeople’s excuse
“Why try if I’ll lose”
And he lived by his ‘wisdom’ in pain.

The town was afraid
For on one dreary day
Small child had been taken
By those dreaded waves
And from then on they feared
Those breaking white beards
And never again were swayed







They avoided the sea
But my sister and me
Were adventurers down to the core.
We strayed where we shouldn’t
And soon enough couldn’t
Get back to the safety of shore.

We were pulled backwards then
Our hope died, just when
A small rowboat appeared by our side.
It was the frightening old man
And he said “if we can,
We will pull through this terrible ride”

We got home safe and sound
But it seemed all around
The townspeople thought someone
to be dead.

“we all made it here safely”
I tried to explain
But they turned away
And simply said
“Sorry for the loss”
And then it was embossed
That my sister was gone
She was dead.

“But I can still see her”
I told the old man
And his eyebrows raised up as he said
“then feel proud of yourself
For not many folks
Have that self-same curse on their head.”

I looked to my sister
And though she was there
I missed her.
For a spirit cannot speak their mind.
Just then, into my heart
A poisonous dart
Of anger and hate did grind.



The old man knew my sorrow
And I knew his
For we were both in the same boat
He saw the girl too
And I fit into his shoes
‘for that is the way’
It was wrote.

Our sorrow and pain
Made us quite the same.
That cheerless old man
and I.
on the inside and out
we both were without
our loved ones,
our joy, and our pride.

As humble and cheerless.
As he, I became.
In that single moment
He knew
That I was the one
To ‘reign in his stead’
My heartbreak was sufficient for two.

On the next dreadful night
He took me, in fright
To the top of his gloomy tower
It was there that I learned
How the old man discerned
His own way of using this power

The power to see what others could not
The dead, and forever-lost souls.
At the top of this tower
Sat a small glass
Of the hour

But something was wrong with the sand
It went in small pulses
Of waves and tiny breakers
Up, or down or both.
It swirled round my eyes and



The old man said to me
“the sand, you see,
Is the sand of dead souls lost.
It tells you when more
Or less are nearby
To scare others with the breakers
That are tempest tossed.”

“Watch carefully boy”
He said without joy.
As most of the sand suddenly fell
“the bottom is ‘near’”
He said with a leer
At the sand in the glass that he held.

“the top is away”
He told me then
And the next thing I did say
“I heed your words well”
At least I felt.
But his ears were turned away.

From me, to the moaning
of spirits nearby.
The old one’s attention did stray.
“there are more on this night
than ever before”
he said, on that cursed day.

Then I watched in awe
For the old man I saw
Pull from within his chest
A bright orb.
Which he then held aloft
And I listened as he did say

“Ye spirits who want to be cruel, and vile
Heed my words this day
I will hunt you down to the very last soul
And send you all away.
You have had your chance at life
You failed.
Do not ruin the living in this same way.”



The words he spoke
With such great power
That the lesser spirits fled
But the greater of the tormentors
Remained to cause more dread.

They flew all around
Scaring folks of the town
But the old man chased them down
He flew madly about
With his orb of light
Burning the dark spirit’s robes.

Until at dawn
The moon was gone
And the brilliant sunlight arose
It burned them so badly,
they truly did flee
the dark ones were gone
but so was he.

I watched this all happen
From the window of the tower
Which had kept me safe all night.
But I feared for the old man
For I had seen
As he fought,
he was pierced with fright.

The fear had injected
it’s poison so deep
like an arrow of deep-sewn sin
that his eyes grew cloudy and dim
and he turned into soot
as he fell to the foot
of the cliffs
no more of him.

So, there I sat crying
for quite some time
and then, in the light
that shone through the glass
of the pane
I saw a note that read-


“My boy, I’m so sorry
I thought I could live
Through that night of torturous souls.
It is your turn now
To keep them out
So the town called terror never knows.

Don’t let them see what really goes on
some nights when the demons come.
I hope you find
In life, more than I
Some happiness
Please boy, find some.”

That’s all the note said
Though the old man was dead
He had given me one last chance.
I heeded his word
And, (years later be assured)
was married, (the whole town danced).

From the time that he died
Till now, with my bride
I have kept the town safe and well
If the lost souls come back
I’ll be there to attack
And send them all back to Hell.

I watch over this town
This seaside town
Which I came to when I was a boy
I will keep it safe now
And though the name of the town
Is ‘terror’
I call it ‘my joy.’










Noizthims.