On a moonlit night, a stranger passing by,
Heard the passionate plea, of a woman’s mournful cry.
He traveled through the woods so thick,
And in his mind, the memory of this night would forever stick.
There before him, lying on the cold, wet ground,
Was a small babe, making not a sound.
The woman cried, pleaded, begged for the life, of this small child,
And the man before her smiled a deathly evil smile.
The stranger moved swiftly, on silent feet,
Wondering how anyone could hurt a mother and child,
So innocent and sweet. He tackled the evil one, knocking him to the ground, but fear overtook him, as the evil one, rose and turned around.
The devil’s own eyes he had, flames of fire and crimson red.
A coal-black mustache, the color of raven’s wings,
And a mocking grin was all that could be seen.
A jagged scar, that ran the length of his cheek,
And from all appearances, ran quite deep.
His hair, was long, thick, and black, except for a vee
Of white, at the nape of his neck. “Interfere not stranger, for I have come to kill this woman, and take my son. He belongs to me, This child is mine, and I’ll not leave him behind.”
“This woman was necessary, to gift me with this son,
Her usefulness is over, now tis time, to spill her blood.”
“It has been decreed throughout the years, that a child
Would come through a woman’s tears.”
“Turn around, you can leave in peace, all I want is this,
Woman, and baby, death, is her release. I have no quarrel
With you, the evil side, tells me what I should do.”
He turned his back on the stranger, for this evil one,
Feared no danger.
The woman’s eyes pleaded Don’t turn away, and the goodness in the stranger, Won out. He had to stay. “God give me strength to do what I must do, Grant me the wisdom, to see this through.
If I falter or fall along the way, this woman, will
Find no peace, in her shallow grave.”
His mind made, he launched his attack, thrusting
His sword of silver, in the evil ones back.
There was no mercy, as the battle ensued,
The stranger prayed, knowing he could not afford to lose.
Death for the woman would be the price, and an evil
Life for the child, if it survived.
This was his mission, that he had been given, as he had
Been sent back, amongst the living. Death had taken him, once before,
And he had been sent back, through heavens doors.
Only minutes, though longer it seemed, the battle had been fought,
And as the evil one fell, he knew, he had lost.
With a crash of thunder, and a lightning steel sword,
The evil one knew no more. Swirling masses of fog, so thick and black, Took the evil one, never to send him back.
His time on earth was over and done, for the age-old battle,
Good versus evil, the good, had won.
The stranger gathered the woman and child, in his arms,
And led them by the waters, now so calm.
He washed the tears, from her frightened eyes,
And looked towards the Heavens, of the midnight skies.
“Thank you, Lord, for the strength you gave, and
Helping these lives, we saved.”
A year later, a wedding took place, The lady and the stranger,
Thanks to God’s good grace.
© Cynthia Clark