The Fates: Final Version

I have finished off the third and final Canto of The Fates for you to enjoy now! There may be future revisions to some punctuation and minor words but overall I'm extremely happy with the tone, voice and structure of this poem so I do not foresee any dramatic overhauls. This is probably the first ever complete, revised and finished poem on this blog post as well. So I hope that you appreciate a more polished experience with this.

Canto I:

As she whispered, sweet vengeance- in ghostly prose-

From lips of sanguine and devils tongue;

The daggers blood ooze fueled his woes.

Alas he did quiver, as if to suppose.

He had seen his fate, freshly hung.

As she whispered, sweet vengeance- in ghostly prose.

He screamed, "I am trapped, in Bluebeard's coves.

The victim of deception sung!"

The daggers blood ooze fueled his woes

"M'lady I prithee, that in my throes

you shall not leave me on rafters strung!"

As she whispered sweet vengeance- in ghostly prose

"I cannot forsake you, for God only knows,

the justice I feel in breathless lung."

The daggers blood ooze fueled his woes.

"Are we the horrors, or Greek heroes?

Who in hubris Nemesis stung?"

As she whispered sweet vengeance- in ghostly prose-

The daggers blood ooze fueled his woes.

Canto II:

Behind her lips a smile bloomed,

like foul smelling ivy on broken wall.

As in her eyes, the flame consumed.

The deed was sealed, so she presumed,

That he, in foolish folly would fall.

Behind her lips a smile a bloomed.

She knew that for him Atropos loomed

provoked by Hades cackling call.

As in her eyes, the flame consumed

As she was in flight, he’d surely be damned!

Like clueless, confused and subservient thrall.

Behind her lips a smile bloomed.

As he was now finished- she assumed,

that she could escape this heavenly hall.

As in her eyes the flame consumed.

For when his ashes were exhumed,

they would see the maggots crawl.

For behind her lips a smile bloomed,

as in her eyes a flame consumed.

Canto III:

Inescapable providence: where none succeed!

Our blood, for their blood; their bones, for our soul,

Is this the God’s only reprieve?

The haunted blade it must receive

It’s ritual coat to make it whole.

Inescapable providence: where none succeed!

In her stomach, where anger seethes,

Stab her breast and pay her toll.

Is this the God’s only reprieve?

Though she gargles you’re not relieved.

To burning hell you have to stroll.

Inescapable providence: where none succeed!

With stabs unrelenting: you must concede

Your life was controlled by mystical scroll.

Is this the God’s only reprieve?

In blood her smile did not recede,

In blood his rage made him whole.

Inescapable providence: where none succeed!

Is this the God’s only reprieve