Fisher Prince

 Fisher Prince

Part One – The Heavenly Birth

From the mists of the ancient past

A god was forged from a mighty blast

A tyrant ruled on earth with steel and fire

The subjects of his kingdom were in mire

They cried to the gods for salvation 

Imploring them for imminent liberation

The gods held council and set a plan

To create together an unrivaled man

Endowed with the mark of the gods 

They begot a champion by all odds

Destined to fight injustice and pain

On earth and end the tyrant’s reign

A warrior with skills unmatched

On a perilous journey to be dispatched

To set free the wretched souls on earth

He was destined from his heavenly birth

Part two – Aria

A creation so perfect was this wondrous child

That the envious gods were threatened and riled

The god of death decreed for him an early death

By the murderous horns of the treacherous ‘Seth’

The bereaved mother in swift determination

Cast the child away for his own salvation

Stranded sailors carried him unto their ship

When he cried the sails luffed like a whip

Sailing windward to an ancient city

They sold the child with maidens pretty

The childless king Thorn bought the ancient ark

And the beautiful child he named him Mark

Growing up a skilled warrior he became

Unsurpassed archer with glory and fame

To fulfill the oracles’ prophecy, he set sail

Battling the storms, winds, and gales

His ship was sunk by the mighty waves

Saving his mates from watery graves

By the raging waters he was overcome

Until awakened by the beating drum

Unconscious he lay on a distant shore

On an island he had never seen before

He heard the playing of a harp divine

At the gates of a goddess majestic shrine

A maiden beyond the beauty of mankind

To the sturdy gate she was confined

A snake was slithering toward the gate

Approached the nymph and lay in wait

When Mark shot an arrow into its eye

A black storm of dust rose to the sky

‘Aria’ kissed his hand and held his arm

“Why do you cry? You’re safe from harm.”

“This serpent,” she said, “is the god of death

A descendent from the horrible ‘Seth’

Now he will take revenge on us both

To avenge himself he swore an oath

Only your blood will quench his wrath

Hasten away, you must shun his path

Take this jeweled raft and sail away

The god of the waters you must allay

By giving him a thousand jewels divine

Into the waters you pour this wine

Only those jewels will break the spell

Now adieu, Prince, I bid you farewell.”

Arriving ashore he saw a distant fire

A woman and children in worn attire

Their food was a broth and stale bread

“You’re welcome to our food”, she said

“You must be hungry, come and eat.”

He laid the thousand jewels at her feet

“The jewels are a gift for your sons and daughters,”

Hence, he procured the wrath of the god of the waters

Part Three – The Ransom

In the village, a dragon was spitting fire

Turning the shacks into a funeral pyre

Roaming the village to wound and gore

Voicing its fury in an appalling roar

Villagers cried to the king for protection

Women and children fleeing in every direction

Mark shot the dragon with arrows galore

Then he was transformed into the god of war

The ungrateful king feared the god’s ire

Decided to sacrifice him at the temple’s fire

Mark was chained and flogged with a rod

His blood trickling to appease the god

In a distant dream he saw Aria’s beautiful face

Promising him deliverance from this hellish place

A woman approached the king with tearful eyes

And laid at his feet a magnificent jeweled prize

To ransom her savior from such a fate

His benevolence was not repaid by hate

 

He sailed alone battling the wave

Of an angry god, dauntless and brave

Raging storms in the day and night

A journey of pain and woeful plight

His boat capsized, injured, and pained

For three days in the waters he remained

So cold was the waters with a shiver

He lost his bow and arrows’ quiver

A fisherman’s boat he saw afar

And Aria’s face, like a morning star

An old fisherman saved his life

And nursed him to health with his wife

“What brought you to the blasted island, son?”

“The will of the gods,” he said, “is finally done.”

For Arco the tyrant was this island’s king

Woe and pain to the people he did bring

The fisherman took him in and prayed

That the cruelty of the king he would evade

For the king would not welcome a stranger

Who would be considered a menace and danger

The oracles had decreed in the scrolls of pain

An archer would end this tyrant’s reign

Part Four – The Rebellion 

Fishing with the old man, he went everyday

When he fished, the fish came in a big display

Abundance of fortune enjoyed the old man

When he fished with Mark, his luck began

He treated him as ‘son’ dear to his heart

And to the market he wheeled his cart

Everyday in the market, together they sold

Their catch and were rewarded by heaps of gold

Until one day, to the market the soldiers came

They upturned the laden carts and took the game

Beating the men and hassling the maids

Beating with sticks and brandishing the blades

They approached the old fisherman and said,

“Give us your gold and fish or you will be dead.”

Mark stood holding his bow and arrow

And hid his ‘father’ behind the barrow

“Go back to your king, hasten with no delay

The time of tyranny will end this very day.

You will no longer steal from the people or hassle

Run back to your king’s slavery castle

For I, Mark son of Thorn, will end his reign

For all the misfortune and terrible pain

He inflicted on the people he will pay

The reign of fire shall end this day.”

The soldiers laughed brandishing their swords

Not heeding his warning, ignoring his words

“Insolence!” cried the captain of the guard

You will burn for your words until charred

The old man kneeled, cried, and pleaded

“Noble knights, take his words unheeded

For he lost his mind to illness and pain

I will never bring him to the market again

My ‘son’ is crazed; I implore you, take no heed

Of his insane delirium or such a trivial deed

The captain laughed at the “Fisher Prince”

Slashing him with a whip; he did not wince

Mark held the whip and the soldier’s arm

Flung him into the mud, he did not harm

“You stand warned do not endeavor

To flog or fight me, I warn you never.”

The soldiers raged and launched an attack

Coming from every direction, front and back

Mark grabbed a sword and his sword clashed

With every stroke, he broke or smashed

With every stroke, a spark of fire

The soldiers retreated in fear and ire

The villagers cheered, “A champion is born.”

A savior and defender is ‘Mark son of Thorn’ 

Part Five – The Final Battle

The story of the fisherman to the king was told

The oracles proclaimed he is the savior foretold

In ancient prophecies of destruction and doom

The end of the kingdom at his hands will loom

The ancient scrolls of pain have spoken aloud

In them gods and men had solemnly vowed

To punish the tyrant kings with steel and fire

An Archer would turn the ‘kingdom’ into a pyre

“I fear no such prophecy,” proclaimed the king

“The gods are on my side and my council’s wing

The one-eyed god of death sits on my right

And the god of war commands my fight

In league with the god I have always been

I serve them and sacrifice from my own kin

Bring the fisherman to me in an iron chain

In the darkest dungeon yoked he will remain

Until I pronounce to you my final decision

He will taste torture he would not envision

Before the king, he was chained and shackled

The iron chains chafed his neck and crackled

Blood was trickling from his flogged injured back

The soldiers killed the fisherman and burnt his shack

The one-eyed ‘Councilor’ was hissing, “Kill

Sacrifice him, the gods are angry still.

Throw him in the ring to face the wild Boar

That he may tear him with his tusks and gore.”

Thy will shall be done, mighty god of death

In the ring he will face the boar and Seth

Into the ring with the boar he was cast

That this fateful day shall be his last

A maiden from the stands threw him a bow

He aimed at the king and ready to blow

Aria screamed, “Kill not my father, I implore.”

By then the god of death had released the boar

Mark shot his arrow and killed the ugly beast

Five more were suddenly from the den released

The Seth charged and gored the prince’s chest

Aria threw him a sword and arrows to fight his best

The prince threw the sword; the beast was beheaded

He was the god of death, long feared and dreaded

In a dreadful battle, the god of war he had slain 

Blood gushing from his chest and bleeding vein

Aria rushed to the ring in tears and pain

Held the dying prince and cried again 

“The prophecy was not true, he said, I was cheated

By the deceitful treacherous gods, I was defeated.”

Cosmos thundered in rage, “Two gods slain

Bring the slayer to me in a shackle and chain.”

 

The god of gods was invoking storm and thunder

Summoning the gods from the heaven and under

When he saw the prince he screamed, “Alive!

Wasn’t he destroyed? How could he survive?” 

The goddess of creation Tara said, “I am his mother.’ 

Mark had killed the treacherous gods one after another

Only Cosmos and Tara were spared the death

He inflicted on the gods with his dying breath

They were the parents who begot him to fight

Injustice on earth endowed with unrivaled might

“Save him mighty Cosmos, he is my beloved son.”

“I can not change destiny, Tara, the prophecy is done.”

Tara screamed, “Then how do you call yourself a god?”

Maxwell O’Reilly