Twisted Text

On these pages, a story writ’

Not lines of love, near opposite.

With wicked words, bursting seams.

and pictures ripped from horror scenes.

This transcript: tallied tragedy

seemed first clear of trickery

such that I said, with full belief:

“I simply bought a book,

simply bought a simple book

bought a simple book this early morn.”

Nary a choice did I resent

More than my steps up staircase bent.

Had I known what fate was in store,

I would’ve stopped short of the door

and listened to my heart’s retort

turn my back to oaken boards

neglect to knock, proceed no more.

Alas, the wiser choice did seem

like foreign words I could not read

a weaker foe to curiosity

thus on ornate door, my knocks numbered three.

On portal’s edge, the wait did seem

A lifetime spent, eternity

heard racing heart, mistaking

Its pounding pulse for echoed feet.

A lock’s release, my wait was for

an unlatched oaken ornate door

as portal opened to the store

of echoed feet, I thought no more.

Creaking hinges, a'rust with age

made way for shop-keep's leathered face.

His cobwebbed volumes filled the space

and gave the air a smell and taste.

My steps were slow; I didn’t know

what book, which nook my search was for.

So I walked the aisles for a while:

‘Til a hidden book stood out

A hidden nook stood out

A hidden book’s nook stood out.

Into that nook, up to that book

my outstretched arms raised hands that shook.

But now I see that I was blind

to evil glints in shop-keep's eye,

and how my steps had crossed the line,

but like a fool who pays no mind,

still gripped book's spine, as chill gripped mine