The Knocking, or the Story of the Sound That Preceded Their Disappearance
In a humble cottage bedroom In a remote obscure hamlet Judges, jurors, rustics A witness invisible Unknown being, otherworldly citizen Unknown to us, a trick of light? “Are you a man who knocks At the doorways of the earth? Are you a spirit Of air or mud or salt?” Break through the dark Seal of Death Reveal long hidden mysteries Which silence Could longer hide away Behind this door, another doorway Speak the forbidden words That fashion a key Startling reality snaps Like a rope of sand Shadowy portals enclose In unfathomed mysteries There are no dead
Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 15, 2026
He spoke: “Obsidian Spectral vein array’d Leas’d with dark ghosts That wander thro’ the shade I am the knocking That breaks apart thy soul I am the spirit Of mud and salt and bone Abductor, captor Of stones unknown to man Resplendent being With jewels press’d out of sand Cousin Jacks That wander to my door Saffron cake’s the key To the door beneath the floor Onyx the color of their eyes Where naught but the deathless lies”
Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 15, 2026
Grain alcohol throbs in their veins Half blind, faces ruddy from drink The Visitor, he stinks of moonlight What’s he there? A lash? A harness? A bit of rope? Out! And through the door they go! Tethered to the Knocking, hands bound, trailing lamp’s glow Out! To where, only he knows Fly with speed ‘neath eves Shadow-flecked, spinning round Booze and fear, nasty fellows Vomit spills from every mouth Far! ‘Cross hill and glade they’re led One stumbles and falls, drug by a rope of scarlet red Far! Night’s roots will be their bed His howls of laughter Fill every breath of air And the earth laughs with him Suddenly a brilliant sound Peals of thunder from the ground And before them, standing alone A black tree made of stone
Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 15, 2026
“What is this madness? Has Devel taken rein? Be it oak or onyx? Has it root or vein?” Feast on me! The Knocking fell at tree’s foot Hands scratching hairy mulch And from the mulch, dull stones Caps bruised by his touch “What have you stolen spirit? Have you turned ashes to gold? What use have your pebbles? Shaped as polyp and mold?” These stones, these caps are but doorways Of air and spore and rot And through these stones, we will seek Great Earth The offering presented Each gifted in turn Down they swallowed, spitting Their breath began to burn And through Great Earth, the caverns of dawn
Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 15, 2026
Lie down, my sons Of rock and rot I’ll whisper in your ears A slumber song Of monstrous space Of caverns draped in fear Here darkness drowns The mind, my sons Darkness, dust and damp Down in the seam Amidst bad dreams Without bird or lamp Chasm yawns Rope is snapped The mine drifts on and on Through the tree they’ve fallen Into the pools of dawn And so the knocking gasps And pulls each victim down Into caves dark and deep Into a space unfound He sings a song unknown Of endless stone and sleep Lost earth, they wander His prisoners to keep Chasm yawns Rope is snapped The mine drifts on and on And deeper they’re drug, blinded Faces pale and drawn Sleep! And from the rubble, Jimmy comes Coorie doon
Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 15, 2026