First published
When thowes dissolve the snawy hoord
An' float the jinglin icy boord
Then, water-kelpies haunt the foord
By your direction
An' nighted trav'llers are allur'd
To their destruction.-Robert Burns, "Address to the Devil"
A single hungry kelpie emerges from her loch, poised and ready to attack
and along the pebbly shores, she finds a pony that shall make an excellent snack!
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upon the water
few fleeting lights
know to leave
when red peers
up
(at them!)
and a smile
so cold and
(drenched! cruel!)
splits the surface
with the loudest snap
(and splash!)
that nopony would
(ever! never ever!)
hear unless they
knew the cruelty
of mares who
wear their flowers
and live in
lakes
but alas the
fireflies tell nopony
and in a
world below water
she is hungry
(and who would listen to the fireflies?)
There she swims in a loch riddled with murk
and it is with this disguise nopony sees her lurk
Green, blue, and brown are all the hues her slick coat hides away
waiting as the sun dims for somepony to stray
Her siren and seapony cousins keep their allure to acts of lust and haunting song
but any kelpie tries only to catch nopony that is strong
Here in the inlet's marshy lands she can never leave, lest her skin go dry
The little kelpie must watch the distant windmill vanes touch the sky
Under lilies and weeds she must contain her song as bubbles
wishing for the chance somepony will drown and save her hunt some troubles
Along the shore the young kelpie spies the most exquisite prey
Gleaming ember eyes take in the sight of a pony who couldn't possibly get away!
The stallion is a burly Trottish specimen all muscular and wide
To the kelpie's gushing delight she sees no wings at his side!
His tartan cap only boasts the colorful pride of his clan
Beneath cold water she swims gleefully, knowing his hat hides no horn and eyes bear no magic cunning plan
Her mane swirls languidly atop the water, hidden teeth curled in a knowing leer
ready to taste hot, coppery blood and taint the loch so clear
The earthy fool is simple and weak
with nothing to give him a chance as her hunger reaches its peak
Always, there are ponies like her brown stallion who are little more than meat and brawn
So exactly right for her ancestors to have devoured before dawn!
His coat is as muddy as his mind, he thinks he sees a flower drifting and quaint
that when she raises her muzzle from the water's kiss he doesn't appear faint!
Her sigh begins a Song whistling past pointed teeth
Tangles of her lank mane rise with her from beneath
Change does not cross all hills, she has been told
She remembers elder kelpie words smiling, keeping her stallion helpless with a song ancient and old
He is to be no more than bones dragged from her lake
Until she has plucked them clean, only Song holds him fearless so he doesn't shake
So far from everypony that might think to care
Her stallion is unable to pull away from her predatory stare
How funny are the little ponies that mind you not not when you stray from herd and home!
Their thoughts of kin only last for those who do not roam!
With her paradoxical Song of his pain and her pleasure so well spun
her soft laugh drowns in a breeze - now she can have fun!
He is dumbed down with the same Songs of seduction work their usual charm
Words telling of meaningless acts of flesh form the perfect prelude for any harm
The country pony's eyes will only grow duller in death, and with that secure she makes her lunge
dragging him into dark waters for a fatal plunge!
Only when pain corrupts his mind do those eyes come alight!
At once, at last her delicious victim shows some fright!
He cries for family that will never come
while she pulls him into the deep and dark that make up her humdrum
Water invades his mouth and enriches her being
the tendrils of his blood curling beneath her muzzle is just so freeing
Her rear legs meld from kicking, clumsy stock to a tail stirring with grace
From the cold lake depths, her chest warms knowing his thrashing will stop at her pace!
Monstrous forelegs strike her stallion against anything with each buck
leaving her to burble delighted among blood and guck
She is mindful in her attacks to give him no rest
watching as his struggle lessens with each hideous mark against his chest
Clouding her water like a valley clings to its veil of fog are clouds of blood a-flow
that heat her savage heart with the cruelest glow
Before he offers one last scream, she dives forwards for her first bite
letting his will drain away, while above them day bleeds to night
Half-dead and suffering, the kelpie delights in prolonging her stallion's pain
by gnawing rough chunks away from his crest and mane
Savory crimson pools under her maw
wrenched into a sickly sneer, seeing her stallion knows no more of home, family, love, or law
When spring comes her stallion's ghost might perhaps have one blessing
if any bones wash up and leave any ponies guessing
Until the energy of a new dawn arrives, the kelpie mare at last claims her feast
tearing into pink, raw, primal chunks of pony-flesh as an unhinged beast
Past all from her cousin-kind she tears apart
beneath his ugly cage of bones is the start of a useless, stilled heart
Every bit of her stallion she rips into unidentifiable slop
letting all that her stallion was cloak her while the kelpie feeds non-stop
She will lose no sleep or ever be brought forward for her abduction
and when the marsh winds turn foul with hints of old flesh, the kelpie mare will gladly lead another to their destruction
Waves carve the shores of the Trottish countryside
And tickle the heather with a lost stallion's plight
In their leaves, the songs of those claimed by kelpies are carried
Though even their ghosts are fragmented,
In a village, a mill, a manor, or a farm somewhere:
Not everypony has given up on what bones are surrendered
Gods, would it not be good if his kin were so kind?