Anathema

by Beloved Harmony

            Anathema, that walked the sands

                a thousand years ago

                          She passed the mountains into lands

              that hid the driving snow.

                                A curse she uttered, in despair,

                    that pierced the blinding white,

                          And in response a blinding flare

               did pierce the darkened night.

                                Before her stood a Warrior hale-

                    a sword was in His hand.

                           Against Him she could not prevail,

                His sword she could not stand.

                                 She hurled at Him an epithet

                      as her own sword she drew.

                            Her fear of Him was great as that

                of anyone she knew.

                                  Like spite and Malice, Selfish Pride,

                        as one by one they fell.

                            They'd challenged Him and they had died.

                Oh! She had known them well!

                                    Cruelty, Deception, Sorcery

                        had fallen to His sword.

                            So many more and less than she,

                defeated by His word.

                                    Since her own father, old Blind Hate,

                        had been the last to fall,

                            She had set out to seek her fate

                and settle once for all.

                                    Anathema, who circled round,

                        no opening could spy.

                              The stranger calmly stood his ground,

                and looked her in the eye.

                                      His gentle voice, above the gale

                        could be heard brave and strong.

                                "Anathema, Anathema

                how have I done thee wrong?"

                                       "On wickedness thou hast made war,

                         You've slain each vice and sin.

                                With you I must settle a score,

                For they were all my kin!"

                                        She forced the words through fear

                 clenched teeth,

                          its strength was in her blow.

                                For that was truly her belief,

                such seed as scorn would sow.

                                        He dodged her stroke with skillfulness.

                        She blanched at His reply.

                                For she despised the gentleness

                 and pity in His eye.

                                        "Anathema, no child is born

                        into that tribe and clan,

                                But to their path you chose to turn

                to grieve the heart of man.

                                         "Hear Me now, O child of Hate,

                        you came here to destroy,

                                  But even now may change your fate

                 and you can yet know joy."

                                         "The ardent maid of evil, I ?

                         but what could bring me bliss?

                                    But, Ah! To kill you, see you die

                  'twould bring me more than this!

                                          "A thousand years I've walked the Earth.

                          though I was much despised,

                                    A thousand men of noble worth

                    now mock what they once prized.

                                           He watched her as she spoke, her eyes

                           were fey and wild fierce.

                                    'Twas said that gaze could hypnotize,

                    but Him it could not pierce.

                                            "Although it is what you've become,

                            it's not how you must be!

                                    Forget to scorn things pure, succumb!

                    and I can set you free!

                                            "A battle once I fought in love

                            upon a blasted heath.

                                    'Twas for the lives of men I strove,

                    and I have conquered Death!"

                                            A screech so loud it shook the vale

                            came from the wicked one.

                                     Her face became then deathly pale,

                    she knew that He had won.

                                            She dove at Him, with hopeless face;

                             two swords flashed in the night.

                                      He proffered still redeeming grace

                    and she still cursed the Light.

                                            The witch in robes of black and red,

                             the Prince in shining white;

                                       They stood and fought 'till storms had

    `           fled

                    and morning ended night.

                                            The first bright ray of dawning sun

                             glanced off the pure white snow

                                        And fell upon the Shining One.

                    He gave the final blow.

                                            Anathema walked the Earth no more;

                              she scorned the Savior's grace.

                                        And here we mark her end in lore...

                                                    'till someone take her place...