Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

The Spirit World

Teacher
Awake, my child, from sweet and happy dreams,
Cast slumber off, my lovely child - Arise!
For nothing here is just the way it seems,
And evil hides itself in goodly guise.

Child
Oh, Father, let me sleep and rest my soul,
For I am surely safe within your care;
No evil e'er could break your brave patrol,
Nor treachery o'ercome your saintly prayer.

Teacher
Oh, child, you must attend and hear my speech,
For I have much to say that you must hear,
So open wide your ears as I shall teach
Of frenzied spirits filled with hate and fear.
For all around dark spirits glide as snakes,
By terror and by rage, all joys they quench.
Despair will follow in their deathly wake,
Accompanied by dank and loathsome stench.
As sulfur, and as brimstone hotly burns,
So fierce and foul their fetid words arise;
On falsehood every word and meaning turns,
And every speech is filled with wicked lies.
Beware such evil spirits that delight
To draw your soul apart from heaven's light.

Child
Oh, Father, see the trembling of my hand;
Your words have filled my soul with fearful dread;
This dark and grim deceit I understand -
So let us speak of goodly haunts instead!

Teacher
So wise, yet innocent, my little saint,
To close your mind to grim and dreadful things;
With gladness I shall speak without restraint
Of goodly spirits and the joy they bring.
The kind and gentle haunt the world as well,
With brightly cheerful words they lift the mind,
Their rose and lilac scent of kindness swells,
With goodness, love and mercy all entwined.
How lovely are their robes of purest white,
How sweetly they do sing with joyous songs
That fill mere mortal spirits with delight;
And brings the hope of peace to helpless throngs.
Oh child, I plead: with sure and trusting hand
Embrace kind souls that walk this darkened land.

Child
Oh, Father, now I see behind the veil,
Of good and evil from beyond the grave.
I know that goodly ones shall e'er prevail,
For they, like you, are faithful, true and brave.
And I shall surely trust the hand of those
Whose touch, like yours, with kindness ever flows.

Teacher
Yes, trust in me, your soul to guide and keep,
For even wide awake, your eye is blind.
So rest again, my little child, and sleep,
Let drowsy slumber fill your feeble mind.
My love, fear neither goodly haunts nor wild,
Let neither keep you from your sleep, my lamb.
Of spirits I am Prince, delicious child,
But I shall never tell which sort I am.

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