Just outside the village
is a hoary, primitive-looking structure
in which hangs a bell
of colossal proportions
there's no human capable of ringing it
yet its tolling is heard
at midnight every aequinoctium.
All the wolves start to howl
the people and the dogs and cats all shudder involuntarily
when its doleful adumbrations arise.
It's called the Belua Bell
that is to say; “the bell of the beasts”
nobody's ever gone to see what does the ringing.
And it's got something inscribed on its side
above a stylized monstrosity
vaguely anthropomorphic yet distinctly lupine
in magnificent robes and a crown
and seeming to emerge from its snout
hieroglyphics no one's ever figured out
the best language experts are baffled.
It's called the Belua Bell
that is to say; “the bell of the beasts”
nobody's ever gone to see what does the ringing
nobody's ever gone to see what does the ringing
nobody wants to go to see what does the ringing
nobody's ever dared to go to to see
what does the ringing.
supported by 18 fans who also own “The Belua Bell”
In 2019, I was in Salisbury and attended the Alphabet Business Convention without knowing any artist. Lost Crowns was my favourite band that played there. Pablo P.