Writing Wednesdays: The Absurdly Epic Tragedy of Oscambria 1.3

This is a continuing epic poem. You can find the previous parts here, or by following the "Oscambria" label at the bottom of the post. Enjoy.

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IV.

While the yellow-faced Zzizgarg, I mean, Cornball,

Was conversing with his Father,

Spans away, Oscambria was mid-monologue

in an after Lessons theatre performance.

Oscambria starred as the lead actor,

Cademeaus the Beautiful,

In a play called “Sing to Me, Cadem!”

Let us listen in on his words.

“How can this be, you fiend,

that thee should offend

me and take the life of she I loved?

My heart! My soul! I am but a man

Burdened and weighted down

By your oppressiveness.

“Cindy never wronged thee,

oh Death, that you should smite her.

Her life was full of joy,

Her body a gift divine,

And her heart given to all.

I shall not stand this life without her,

Oh wretched horror.

“Hark! Mine eyes see her

beyond the Great Plain,

pale and terrible in her beauty.

I am coming to you, Cindy!”

And behold, our hero plunged a knife into his chest,

the blood flowed strong,

and Cademeaus the Beautiful died tragically on stage.

A moment of stunned silence

Was defeated by a powerful series of clapping

and shouting for his performance.

The blood-soaked body rose,

Bowed gracefully,

And walked off the raised dais and

Into the throng of his admirers.

“Thank you all,” said he, “that you came

to watch my performance.

I am but a mere semi-mortal,

Gifted by a spark of Flame in my heart

That propels me into the light of fame.

I can only do what my heart yearns to do,

And that is to kiss you, fair maiden.”

Oscambria pulled at a nearby virgin,

Embracing her in his hug and kissing her full on the lips.

She blushed, of course,

Having never been kissed before,

But also from receiving an act of love

From Oscambria, the acclaimed actor

And handsome hero of the stage.

It was there, surrounded by fans and

Adorners of gifts,

In his post-performance glow,

That a peculiar thing happened, the major plot impetus, if you will.

The youth all backed away in horror

And the elders retched a foul

and dark vomit.

Everyone began running at once,

Everyone but Oscambria,

To find a way of escape from the curse he suddenly found himself in.

The throng of worshipers

Had abandoned the actor within minutes,

Leaving him alone with the curse

And the agony that would ensue.

The Hero wept suddenly,

Tears stinging his young face.

His dark hair masked his countenance

For the time being,

Hiding the fear and revulsion etched thereupon,

Concealing the wondrous features

Of his handsome face.

Let us pause and consider this moment, dear ones.

Oscambria, the one day Hero of the Worlds,

The acclaimed actor and performer,

The one who bested Zzizgarg in a challenge in the Courte du Gods,

The one who defeated the Giant Koala of Havik,

Is down on his knees and weeping like a child,

Sobbing with abandon.

This, I offer, is the second lowest moment of his life.

This is where the tragedy begins,

Where the journey starts,

Where the plans are laid,

Where the gods are pleased,

Where a semi-mortal finds himself castrated from society

And suddenly cursed.

“What have I done,” cried Oscambria,

“That I should deserve this punishment?

It is more than I can bare.

My once beautiful skin is now wretched and grey,

Spotted with freckles and painful to touch.

And the odor that reeks from it

Is fouler than the Sulfur Sea of Hell.

“I dare not glimpse myself at a mirror,

lest I faint, or desire to pluck my eyes

like Oedipus of Old.

No, I shall leave this place and discover

Why I have been afflicted,

And who has wished me a-cursed.

What have I done?”

Oscambria rose from his position,

Just yards from the stage he’d just entertained on,

And dusted himself off.

He was still covered in the dark berry juice

That had been used as blood for Cademeaus’ fatal wound,

Still robed in classic Euro garb,

Still grey-skinned and cursed.

“Goodbye, dear stage, for I must leave thee.

I vow to you that I will return one day,

That I will perform on you again,

That I will discover the villain of this plot and knavery,

And that I will slay him with my own self.

Hear my words, Oh Muses, and know that I will serve

Thee with all my heart.

“Hear my vow, Oh Rone, and know that the

Fire that is in my lineage will burn bright in me,

That I will end this curse that has been placed upon me.

I offer you the Blood-cut, and I will avenge those that have wronged me,

I will live out my days in this agony

Seeking justice and vengeance,

And when I have found it, I will have my restoration.”