It’s the funniest thing to find bits of your own writing that seem like they were written a million years ago, by someone that might have been you.
This is an epic poem called “Steel” I only vaguely remember writing. It’s pretty violent and fairly ridiculous. I hope you like it, but if you don’t… well, it’s kind old, so…
In a time ahead of ours,
in a world we’ve helped beget,
lives a pale skinned complex creature
dressed in metal, black and gray.
She’s been given raven hair
and a talent with big guns.
She’s got blood shot eyes,
shades and make up,
plus spare bullets, just for fun.
“My parents weren’t so creative,”
she says this all the time.
She laughs and filches brand new wheels,
and says her name is Steel.
Steel’s proud of her thick skin,
and her dark jungle of hair.
So cocky her voice has become,
she laughs without a care.
“So what if I look like a vamp
just short of Bram Stoker’s?!
As soon as you meet my hand cannons
you’ll be shopping for cute coffins!”
None dares cross her silver smile,
not even with a whisper.
Until night becomes first of day,
and Steel runs down some visitor.
Spread on the dark road,
and vexing Steel’s packed schedule
were almost seven feet of man
sporting silver hair and make-up.
His skin was paper white as Steel’s;
his eyes, they glittered green.
He jumped up off the ground and said,
“Yo, wazzup bitch?”
Steel raised just one eyebrow
and snorted in disgust.
She jumped the hog
onto the road,
“Ho, eat my dust.”
“Watch that tongue, honey.”
“For I know all your secrets.
Say whatever you’ll say,
but nothing’s hidden from this visitor.”
The man then smiled so widely,
and so scary did it seem.
His teeth were pearly white, and long.
Like a monster in the screen.
“You mock! cried Steel, still hoping for his failure,
“You’d best run away from me, you bleached out mime in make-up!”
For Steel had one sole secret
one thing that no one knew.
Her teeth would look just like so,
each time the moon was full.
“Name’s Knell, my dear,”
said he, as he approached her faster
“You’d do well to remember,
because I am your father.”
“As Raiden said, don’t think so, sir
My daddy was a lawyer!
He’s also croaked, I know it so.
I used his own revolver.”
“Oh, meth and crack on playgrounds!”
exclaimed he, previous loner,
“Don’t speak about your elders, until you know their motives.”
Oh, how confused was Steel,
confronted by this person.
Yeah, yeah, they kinda looked alike,
but he was begging for a lesson.
How sorry this all made her,
as he spoke about his life.
But not as sorry as she was
that she didn’t have her guns.
“Well, here we are!”
said Knell, with pride and much conviction.
“You’ll finally be awake,
and fully aware of my vision.”
said Steel, (she’d barely paid attention)
“I’d like you to be quiet,
but I’ll settle for the short version.”
“Come and face yourself
said Knell, clear and determined,
“I gave you many years,
But your fate was predetermined.”
And with these words
Steel was a sword
remaining sharp for what’s not norm.
Walls were painted white,
So empty and demanding.
There was no furniture to speak of.
No sense or understanding.
Behind a large clear spawn of man,
that has been known as glass,
was the object of her scorn,
she would become so crass!
Steel looked on with horror,
and wished that she were blind.
A twin, she slept so silently,
and floated in delight.
She looked like her!
So peaceful, but jagged in design.
She couldn’t move, or even talk!
Just sleep and float all night.
“How dare you treat your kin this way?!”
said Steel, all high and mighty,
“You let her go, and treat her right,
cuz Steel has crashed your party!”
And then with pity Steel did look,
her gaze was with the twin.
Her hair was white, and Steel’s was black,
but nothing else was in between.
“This is your sister Steel.
She doesn’t have a name.
I had to hide her here,
lest she attracts us fame.”
So Steel fell to the floor,
convinced that she would listen.
And as she heard the tale,
she felt more for her sister.
Locked away, like something old,
just ’cause her hair was different?
And as for Steel herself;
so viciously begotten,
and then at last forgotten.
Cast out into the world
by the one who stood so flattered.
“How could I not imagine…?”
“I would have made a wolf instead,
but they were not in fashion.”
Just as these words were uttered,
Steel let out a shudder.
Her fist was with his face;
it felt a lot like rubber.
And as she knew this
thirst for blood,
she thought the room would flood.
The glass was broken,
the key words spoken.
Her skin white as the lie,
she grabbed a piece of glass,
and made Knell-cherry pie.
As Ice and Steel they took the world,
these lone pale-skinned delights.
With guns and knives they rule the night,
and loathe the glare of light.
And when it comes to Ice and Steel’s
supposed deep dark secret,
they use their fangs as any vamp:
To drain the blood of victims.