© 2003 Noah Petherbridge ‒ May 19, 2002
I wrote this poem after waking up from a dream, in which a poem very similar to this one was being read by a narrator, as if in a movie. The dream was making up the lyrics to an insanely creative poem off the top of its head, and this was my attempt to write it down.
On a trip to old Drac’s castle,
My team’s struck with grief and hassle.
It was late in the months of fall,
It seemed like the coldest month of all.
As we neared the castle, we saw in a tree,
Several black bats, about twenty-three.
A strong icy wind blew just now,
And the cold hit us just like a plow.
The bats dropped from the tree in a blur of black,
My team was frightened and stepped quickly back.
As I started to run, I heard a scream so high,
And as I looked back, I saw a man so nigh.
Lying down by the gate was a smelly old bum,
He is just awakening, and he smells like rum.
He was screaming for help, I couldn’t refuse,
I slowly approached him, he fell to my shoes.
He picked himself up, still screaming for help,
He was so unclear, it was a pitiful whelp.
With a deafening scream, something emerged from the castle,
It was the spirit of Prince Vlad, and his image struck hassle.
The bum and I, we commenced to flee,
And Vlad looked angry, staring at me.
I told the bum to continue on his own,
And I turned around, and faced Vlad alone.
Vlad’s eyes were beet red, and badly bloodshot,
He was building with fury, and quickly getting hot.
I knew I should run, but I was curious to see more,
Until Vlad left the castle, slamming the door.
At that point I paused, then I started to run,
If I had stayed here, it wouldn’t be fun.
I turned away, then hurried down the path,
Such an evil nature that Prince Vlad hath.
Quickly enough, he was out of my sight,
I was running so fast, I could’ve took flight.
But I survived okay, and filled with hassle...
And that was my trip to Dracula’s Castle.