Chapter 20
Kiven:
I drive along with Athera on my ride,
Deciding not to unleash my disguise,
Hiding from her with all my might,
For I’ve caught her with all my delight,
Finally her in my very presence,
For soon I will unleash my disguise,
Revealing to her a surprising reality of plan devise,
Devising everything of dread with nothing read,
For things are not meant to be said,
For I’ve bled the unsaid and dreaded
the very agonize of this journey conquest,
For every journey is a test at its best,
For as we ride, we ride to a place of well known,
A place of divide disown,
A place of broken stones,
A place out grown,
A place called the Gargula Divide,
For it be of division divide,
For we now arrive at this place of Gargula Divide,
Where the sky is a serene green
And the surrounding area be an eroded stone arena obscene,
For the very obscenity of this place can make one scream,
Screaming a terror of no joy,
For this very place toys with the mind,
Along with disturbing thoughts left behind,
Leaving you a questioning blind,
For now we both need to find a way to go,
Something in which I know,
So I stomp on the ground,
Sounding the divide call of division break,
Breaking to no mistake,
For I take Athera by the arm,
Holding her tight,
For the ground shatters like broken glass,
For it becomes a mass effect of a total wreck,
Wrecking all ground beneath us,
Carving a pathway in its own achieve,
Silenced by its grieve conceive,
For the broken ground deceives us not,
For it plots out its own map,
Now we must follow the pathway to the other side,
For the path be eroded squares suspended in the air,
Daring its own eagerness with no safety care.
“Athera we must travel forward on the path,
For it will be unfair,
For the path has no living care for lives,
For it thrives on despair and demise,
For on the path there is no knowledge of what lies.”
I say to her as I have done this path before,
For it be not a stirring blur to me,
For it be something else,
Now we be on our way crossing the floating stones,
Until we reach the middle,
Then all of a sudden,
A yellow clown triangle arises,
A monstrosity of despise,
A monster filled with the very decay of all lies,
For he be what lies before us,
A matter of must defeat.
“Hi there lads, it’s me Trucky Trouble triangle,
I’m here to play games with you.”
The yellow clown triangle says to the both of us,
As I bring out my flaming flaring blade in defense,
Ready to fight,
Even Athera brings out an ax to defend herself,
For we are both ready to attack,
Not even looking back,
Ready to face this monster of not fact, but fiction,
A clown beast of disgusting depiction,
Blinded by his evil conviction of no return,
This monster to me is nothing of a concern,
Him I will slice burn,
“Please don’t be mean to me,
I only want to play or else I’ll rid your brains of all sanity.”
He says to us,
As if his words are just dust of no breath air,
Not caring me and Athera plunge our weapons
Into the triangle clown monster,
Slicing him like an untold story,
For he attacks back with powers of cold,
For with the use of his powers he starts to turn old,
Molding himself into infirm and decapitated,
For he defeats himself into death,
Without another strike from our weapons he dies
A death of what value?
Now we be on our way with him dead gone,
With the more wrong to come along,
For the Never writes it’s untold song,
As we continue treading on,
We both come to a luminous glowing green door,
A door that leads into a place I know,
So we both move forward through the door
To the mangrove swamp of Isel Convict,
A swamp of leech creatures of monstrous sore,
For these very large leech creatures want a blood limb score,
For me and Athera decide to go through
The murky disgusting grim of a swamp,
For as we go through the swamp
The air be a damp wet dry,
Almost making my eyes tear cry,
For as we go through the swamp
The water gets deeper and deeper,
‘Til the water is up to our chests,
Soaking our clothes in all its muck,
For the very mangrove swamp makes deranged and strange sounds of unheard,
For as we make way through this muck,
Of a sudden a burgundy curtain arises up from the water,
Blocking our path,
For the curtain bares leeches abound on it,
Sucking the very nothing off this curtain,
That is in our way,
For we both are now still,
Stuck where we are,
Can’t go no more further,
For our journey be far,
Out of no end reach,
So I take my weapon and try to breach through the curtain,
But it fails,
The words appear on the curtain of a way out,
It tells of the use of bone to break through,
In which there are no bones around to be of use,
Since we are stuck,
Still in the mangrove swamp,
Trapped with no way out,
For I look at Athera and she be filling herself with
doubt, Bringing herself to an anxious wreck,
For we need to figure out an idea of great,
No time to debate in the mind.
“Athera use your powers to rip a bone from your
arm,
So we may tear the curtain open.”
I say to her as she rips a bone from her right arm,
For she screams in agonizing pain,
Then she heals back up,
With the pain no more,
So she hands the bone to me to breach the very
surface of the curtain, For I slice the curtain into
two and we both head straight through, We rush
run through this muck of a swamp until we reach
dry land, For we both stand safe and sound,
Hand in hand,
Withstanding the drear and dread,
We both went through,
For as we are about to head on in our journey,
A leech creature comes out of the water and
attacks Athera, Engulfing her leg hole,
Saw shredding her flesh,
As her blood lies a color of dark purple poisonous
taste despise, For her very blood is the leech’s
demise,
As she screams a no dream of battering agonize,
For the creature be now dead,
No more to traumatize us,
For her leg heals all too quick,
And on our way we must be,
Free from all pain insanity,
Through the Never we must journey conquest, ‘til
the Never draws its next test.
This is an excerpt from The Never published by Legacy Book Publishing.
Edited by Marie Ginga
Alyssa Barkevich, AKA Odera Darka, is a young women with goals for the future. She wants to learn to drive, take a baking classes and get a job working at a bakery. She makes jewelry and plays the tin whistle flute and other foreign instruments. One day she hopes to travel to different countries and learn about different cultures and their customs and even learn new languages. Her book, The Never, is published by Legacy Book Publishing.