Haunted Verses - Paranormal Poems

The Prophecy

By WPutman68 

On or about, every one hundred years... Blackwell twins are born, with fallen tears.

They will be gifted, a boy and a girl... At seventeen they're touched, from another world.

Their gifts like magic, they have received... Of what they can do, even they do not believe.

Twins closer than most, yet not fully completed... Only separate, can they be defeated.

And when they become of age, the male will find a mate... The Chosen Ones will number three, upon this special date.

She will be beautiful, and gifted as well... In love they will be, everyone can tell.

With her gift, time has no meaning... For their hearts are one, as they go on beating.

Together forever, they truly are... For their names are written, among the brightest of stars.

The female also, will find a mate... Their love found true, upon this date.

He will be mortal, with love not undone... Together until death, they will live as one.

A blue crystal, soon will be found... A Chosen One will find it, after a piercing sound.

Power increased three-fold, the one who possesses... But beware the crystal, for it has no mistress.

The Chosen Ones are born, gifted of the light... But from the portal evil appears, each and every night.

Their hearts and minds as one, they must employ... If just one falters, two will be destroyed." 

The first challenge, is that of the witch... Beware of her power, and never ever flinch.

She will be cunning and deceive, to gain their trust... Do not turn your back, for you will surely turn to dust.

On the tenth of June, her power will be great... The Chosen Ones must face her, for it is their fate.

If not all united, two will be lost... The Chosen Ones will pay, the ultimate cost.

Blackwell blood, a sacrifice may be made... If the Chosen Ones, their power the witch will gain.

If this comes to pass, the evil witch will reign... A hundred years until the Blackwell twins, come of age again.

If the witch destroyed, a second challenge awaits... To face The Others as one, greet their uncertain fate.

A look into the mirror, what they will see... The Others will be coming, for it will surely be.

They must fight The Others, as only they know how... To destroy the Chosen Ones, The Others have solemnly vowed.

If the Chosen Ones are defeated, darkness will reign... But if they are the victor, a price will still be paid.

Upon their eighteenth year, to the hour will appear... All The Chosen Ones, from the centuries of yesteryear.

To gather around them, It's why they have come... For on this special day, they will all be as one.

As the spirits share their power, A portal will emerge... With glowing blue light, their gifts will converge.

Brighter and brighter, the light will become... Until no one can see, the mighty Chosen Ones.

A bright blue flash, as the violent thunder roars... The Chosen Ones are taken, to another world.

Brought before the Elders, everyone will be, Standing before them, their fate remains unseen.

A task lies before them, each one must undertake... If The Chosen Ones prevail, the Elders decide their fate.

Time on the other side, may be forever or a day... But for those waiting, four hours it will only take.

If all are victors, they arrive as were taken... A bright blinding light, clap of thunder ground shaken.

From the blue midnight sun, the Chosen Ones are hurled... For a second time they're touched, from another world.

The day hast arrived, All Hallows' eve... A night to remember, thou will surely grieve...

Gone with a flash, the gateway taken... An old enemy will find it, her will unshaken...

Innocent's gather, a dark celebration... Know not what they do, an evil visitation...

Gifted twins among them, in the masses they hide... Forced to fight, but on which side...

The Others appear, one, two, then three.... The innocent's see them, and still not believe...

To kill, steal, and destroy, The others have vowed... The Chosen ones fate, a mystery in shroud...

As to look in a mirror, they come face to face.... To know one self, may be their saving grace...

If The Others the victor, many souls will be lost... If The Chosen Ones, bewail the ultimate cost...

- W Putman.

Thank you  for this epicly long and yet epicly epic poem! We enjoyed reading it quite a bit! 

The Bards. 
WPRS.