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Rated: E · Poetry · Religious · #1999107
A poetic short story that puts an unusual twist on the most popular book in the world!
Sons


Although cast out

They never spoke ill

Of their exile from Elder

Or anything he willed.


They had some sons,

Companion and child,

And their sons being boys

Were sometimes quite wild.


Soon did the sons,

Hearing so highly of Elder,

Go to their king

Desiring his favor.


They went to his palace

And asked how he be pleased.

The Shadow of Elder said,

"Bow, on your knees."


"To my palace gates,"

He said, "you should bring,

an offering that you believe

Is fit for your king."


Beyond the palace walls

Back to their home,

They looked for and offering

For the king they owe.

They returned to the palace

With gifts in hand.

Son One brought sweet fruit.

Son Two brought a lamb.


The lamb, of course slaughtered,

Was feasted upon.

The King gave his Favor,

And then he moved on.


Son One kneeled with his fruit

Of tasty and sweet,

But the King Elder frowned

At this colored treat.

The shadow of elder

Then turned away,

And he left Son One

To wallow in dismay.

Shadow of Elder sat and he said

As he did deplore,

"If you do not well,

Sin comes to your door."


With a tingle down his spine

One left Elder's sight.

And much rage grew

Inside him that night.

His brother won favor

With a dead animal.

Was he now frowned on

for caring at all?


As the sun rose

So did Son Two,

Not knowing at all

What he was going to do.

All One knew was the ache

That was now in his heart,

That would forever keep him

and his brother apart.

While Son Two was in

The animal pen,

One snuck up quick

And delivered his end.

Forever to haunt him

Would be the sound

That his brother's blood made

When it hit the ground.


The shadow called Elder

Had soon found out,

And he couldn't have a

Murderer running about.

He sentenced One to further exile,

To carry out his life

And live all the while.

But Shadow Elder

had developed a thirst.

And on Son One

He had laid a curse.

If One should get murdered,

His murderer be cursed

That he should die a death

Seven times worse.

That curse would travel also

To his sons and grandsons,

To die worse and worse

Over this accursed one.


Of child and companion

And their descendants too,

All seemed to believe 'good'

Is all Elder does do.

And much of the town

Thinks he's on the good end.

Why does no one realize

That he's not our friend?
© Copyright 2014 Destiny Turner (dezzyt at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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