|
|
Further Tales Of The Pied Piper
Long ago in a country, now forgotten, there was a lavish town
Rats had over-ran it, and in no time at all, was it torn down
The mayor, full of greed was he, and he cared not for the people,
The friar, the peasants, the workers and all, gathered under the steeple,
They demanded their dues, of the Council and the Mayor,
But a man, unknown to them, came and answered, swift their prayer.
But, lo, the Mayor, his greed took hold, and he betrayed the city’s Savior,
And out of anger, so I’m told, the man lashed out at the mayor’s behavior.
He led the village young away, and never again were they seen,
We know this man, as the Pied Piper, and Hamelin is where they’d been.
The fate of those children, we do not know, but we can speculate.
He led them to the river, where they joined the rats, some debate…
He led them to a cave, which was opened in the mountain,
He played his flute and they followed, of only that, are we certain.
We join the world many years later, at least 2 score or so,
Where corruption is plain as day, decay is what we know.
A town, close of course to Hamelin, was troubled, deep indeed,
They were rich until a recent plague destroyed their cattle, and the feed,
The town was left in shambles, and all people were left lame,
They prayed, and prayed, in hopes of help, but alas, none came.
Soon rats overcame the village, making problems worse,
The food was destroyed, the water defiled, leaving the sick in thirst
And then, the town it stopped it’s motion, not a person stirred,
And one day, the guard, a traveler did spot, and he spread the word.
They had not had a visitor in years, and thought they never would,
They were distraught, and did not know whether his will be ill or good.
But,
This merry wanderer on his way, yet with not a way to go,
Happened upon the town, barren for reasons none outside did know,
So he stopped and asked around, not much cause could he find,
He stood upon a fountain, hoping to bring some peace of mind,
“My merry folk and villagers, here you seem to be let down,
Would you let your eyes follow this jester, but a merry clown?
Ah yes, my sir, you see me here, tell your friends, I bring you cheer
Let your minds be comforted by my song, I’ll play for you the nighttime long!”
And with his words and some extravagance, he brought to view his flute,
The hands that held it, smooth and slender, his clothing strange and pied
Patched in purposeful tatters, colored strange to any to whom where spied
Blue and violet was his garb, and his jacket sanguine and gold,
His eyes, were slender and reached well by his cat-like smile,
And his height, were he not so pleasant, to fear, would any it beguile,
His promise was kept, he played as long as he could, but soon morn came
His recital was cut short, the mayor, apparent, did not want these foolish games.
“Now sir, I believe you not in the wrong, but these are times not soothed by merely song.
I pray thee please, abandon here, and be on your way, just go.
These are troubles with which none can help, and which everyone already knows.”
And as he turned away, our wanderer did pause, “please, sir,” nervous was his tone
If you tell me what is wrong, help I can bring, this time leaves you not alone.
The mayor, skeptic to say the least, heaved a sigh and, turned back, his voice surrendered,
“I tell you young piper, that could you rid our town, of the pestilence and fleas
Our hearts rendered, with all the gold we have, we’d bare ourselves to you on knees.”
With these words the mayor turned, walking away as the wanderer thought to himself.
With a smile he traversed to the nearest inn, and camped there, resting for his health.
It is told that on that night, the eeriest music pervaded the air. A ghostly sound,
One which brought peace to all who heard, but a slight discomfort lingered in the morn.
The sunlight rose and as it did; the mayor heard a crash outside his door,
He rose to see the commotion, none had he heard like this before.
“SIR!” a young voice yelled, upon seeing the mayors flushed face
“I apologize for the noise, but it’s amazing, I had to tell you of this grace!”
You could nearly see this young boy’s heart race.
“Sir, the fleas, and the disease on my mother, they have both just disappeared! Nothing left,
Sir I tell you, not a trace!”
The mayor now saw that this was not distress written on this young boys face.
Bewildered at his words, the mayor got quickly dressed; he tied his tie and dawned his vest.
Then hurriedly into the streets he strolled, “is it true?” he thought, “Have we truly been so blessed?”
“Oy! Good sir,” he heard a voice call back, and he turned his head to see just who beckoned
“My sir,” said the wanderer, “I have done as you have asked. “T’was a simple task, as my mind had reckoned.”
The piper bowed, lifting off his hat, then smilingly asked of the mayor “good sir,
Would you ask more of me?” and by now, the town was all but in a stir.
The people wondered who this was, that could do such amazing deeds,
And the mayor sighed, and said, “Yes... We have also, a problem with the rats…”
At this, the piper smiled, “My sir you only need to ask, and I shall fulfill your request.
For the gold you offered, I would gladly do my best.”
At this, the piper began to walk away, and the mayor hesitantly stopped him in his gait.
“My kind sir, may I ask your name?” said the mayor, his countenance, not so straight.
“I,” answered the piper “Need not have a name. I am but a Bard, wandering.
But if you must know from whence I came, it’s Hamelin, if this would cure your wondering?”
The mayor nodded, with a smile, then he bid the wanderer adieu
And as the piper walked away, the mayor showed his feelings true.
A slight fear spread across his face as he turned to face the town,
Then immediately, he called all the village down.
That evening, he had a meet, where all but one would be allowed,
The wanderer received naught an invite, pleased, though in fear was this crowd
“Ladies and gentlemen… I do have in me a terror… This wanderer with whom we talk,
Has hailed down from Hamelin, where recent a tragedy befell,” in return, a silent, horrified gawk
“The town, destroyed, when a wanderer came through, who promised all, and when through
He killed the children and went on his way; we all remember this to be true.”
Every mother in the room moved close to their kin, and pulled them to their chest
“We all now see the danger, are we’ve sure that we are blessed?”
At the mayor’s words, the silence was quite eerie, and but a moment later,
The piper’s tune filled the air, drowning their discomfort, their minds a quiet theatre,
Welcoming in their dreams, and beguiling their lusts and fears,
And upon waking, the villagers forgot their woes and tears; they slowly rose and looked around
In the streets, the piper stood and played near the fountain, the mayor watching closely from nearby
“Dear piper, I beg of you, a word?” at the mayor’s voice, the piper smiled, and stopped his tune,
Eager to talk with the mayor, the piper tipped his hat, “Ah, my lord, you come to me so soon.
I truly hoped I could play for but a moment longer. But what, may I ask is this indulgence you seem so apt to need?”
The mayor smiled, an awkward smile, obvious he was not at ease “My dear bard,
I apologize to ask, but after the rats we have one more stress,” the piper watched and smiled,
“Tonight, meet me in the cavern, in the west, and I will show,” the mayor spoke feverish, expression growing wild.
“And in the morn, we, the town, will give you the reward that I have promised.”
“Of course, I’ll follow,” the piper said, though thoughts were running through his head
He knew now, that this mayor was full of treachery, and if he listened he’d be dead.
He spoke inside his mind, as the mayor walked away, “Your eyes, they belie the words you say…
So, this night, again I lift my flute to play… When I do the minds of your young will sway,
And tomorrow, of my life and yours, you’ll wonder which did you betray.”
The piper set again off to rest at the inn, and in the dead of night, a ghastly tune he played.
The ears of those that heard it bled until it ended, but not a soul did hear it.
This sound, straight from death’s own book of scores, led the villagers to a stone cold sleep,
And the children woke and followed, enamored with a tune more lovely and deep,
They trotted happily after the wanderer who only days before appeared,
And the parents lost the thing that they would not have lost had they not feared.
None know what happened to the children, but the city was never the same,
Their spirits, again, were broken, and their bodies all left lame.
But, the piper did leave a single note, scrawled in blood upon the wall.
“No kind deed goes unpunished, and betrayal is likely so. I offered only kindness, and for such, to be punished, the betrayers must be also so.”
|
|
Comments