DIY History | Transcribe | Hevelin Fanzines | Futuria Fantasia, v. 1, issue 2, Fall 1939

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Futuria Fantasia, v. 1, issue 2, Fall 1939

Page 8

8
Satan's Mistress:
by Doug Rogers

Where flames of purgatory twist, and Earth's transgressors dwell, /
She dances swathed in heated mist, before the gates of Hell. /
Her gleaming naked body flees before the Demon fires, /
Along the shores of molten seas -- ridged high by fuming pyres. /
Her hair, a liquid cape of flame, whips hot about her breasts, /
A strumpet in the Devil's name, which he alone invests, /
Gives power to a woman born of brimstone, steam and smoke, /
Her soul, a spark in early morn, flares up to share the yoke /
Of evil Mephistopheles upon his throne of death, /
Unheeding shrieks and doleful pleas choked out by dying breath. /
The Devil's Mistress dances down thru dungeons carved from bone, /
Upon her head the sinner's crown, each jewel a sigh, a moan. /
Before the wailing souls in caves, tossed down from earthly things, /
To charred and cindered minds of slaves her dancing passion brings. /
Then, tired of her evil joke, and laughing at her games, /
She draws about her fiery cloak to vanish in the flames. /

Lost Soul:
by Henry Hasse

From far across the desolate moor I heard /
The echo of a wild and anguished cry -- /
A tortured voice that shrieked aloud a word, /
A name, that shivered 'cross the leaden sky. /
I stopped -- stared 'round -- I knew that voice did sound /
A faint, familiar note within my brain. /
I fled across that dark and desolate ground /
Seeking out the direction whence it came. /
Forebodingly, that voice kept echoing /
Within a brain that did not seem my own... /
A vague remembrance of a recent thing /
I could not grasp...I was a lost and lone /
Forsaken soul that sped I knew not where, /
Wondering frightenedly what I did seek... /
At last I found it, there beside a bare /
And lonely road, when trembling and weak, /
I gazed upon a gallows-tree where hung /
A corpse, the very site of which did freeze /
The blood within my veins; a corpse that swung /
Grotesquely to and fro upon the breeze. /
And then, through rising panic, closer still /
I peered -- then saw! -- and knew! Again that cry /
That shrieked a name -- the cry that issued shrill /
From my own throat, and shivered to the sky! /
........................................
The name I shried beneath the gallows-tree /
Was mine. The dead thing swinging there was me!

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8 Satan's Mistress: by Doug Rogers Where flames of purgatory twist, and Earth's transgressors dwell, / She dances swathed in heated mist, before the gates of Hell. / Her gleaming naked body flees before the Demon fires, / Along the shores of molten seas -- ridged high by fuming pyres. / Her hair, a liquid cape of flame, whips hot about her breasts, / A strumpet in the Devil's name, which he alone invests, / Gives power to a woman born of brimstone, steam and smoke, / Her soul, a spark in early morn, flares up to share the yoke / Of evil Mephistopheles upon his throne of death, / Unheeding shrieks and doleful pleas choked out by dying breath. / The Devil's Mistress dances down thru dungeons carved from bone, / Upon her head the sinner's crown, each jewel a sigh, a moan. / Before the wailing souls in caves, tossed down from earthly things, / To charred and cindered minds of slaves her dancing passion brings. / Then, tired of her evil joke, and laughing at her games, / She draws about her fiery cloak to vanish in the flames. / Lost Soul: by Henry Hasse From far across the desolate moor I heard / The echo of a wild and anguished cry -- / A tortured voice that shrieked aloud a word, / A name, that shivered 'cross the leaden sky. / I stopped -- stared 'round -- I knew that voice did sound / A faint, familiar note within my brain. / I fled across that dark and desolate ground / Seeking out the direction whence it came. / Forebodingly, that voice kept echoing / Within a brain that did not seem my own... / A vague remembrance of a recent thing / I could not grasp...I was a lost and lone / Forsaken soul that sped I knew not where, / Wondering frightenedly what I did seek... / At last I found it, there beside a bare / And lonely road, when trembling and weak, / I gazed upon a gallows-tree where hung / A corpse, the very site of which did freeze / The blood within my veins; a corpse that swung / Grotesquely to and fro upon the breeze. / And then, through rising panic, closer still / I peered -- then saw! -- and knew! Again that cry / That shrieked a name -- the cry that issued shrill / From my own throat, and shivered to the sky! / ........................................ The name I shried beneath the gallows-tree / Was mine. The dead thing swinging there was me!