Epic of the Labyrinth and Other Dreams Described

D Della Malva Frank

Description

Like the caverns it describes, interwoven and complex paths within The Epic of the Labyrinth may reveal secret trails and hidden passages. Read the epic once and a journey is recounted. Read it again and the passages will undoubtedly reveal double meanings and hidden clues at every turn. The labyrinth can be considered an allegory of a journey through life - mentors and monsters, loves and lies and, most important of all, challenges and lessons. "There is a tale told twice inside..." From the riddle of the opening pages to the shifted rhythm of the closing epilogue, the epic will lead you deeper into its mysteries with every verse that you read. In the end, you will wonder whether it is you who is leading or whether it is you being led.

Sujets

• Fantasy (canción de Mariah Carey)
• Fantasy

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
• Date de parution: 28 février 2020
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781528957472
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

The Epic of the Labyrinth and Other Dreams Described
Frank D. Della Malva
Austin Macauley Publishers
2020-02-28
The Epic of the Labyrinth and Other Dreams Described About The Author Dedication Copyright Information © Acknowledgement The Epic of the Labyrinth Chapter One The Tour to the Second Door Chapter Two Inside the Labyrinth Chapter Three The Dragon of Nor Chapter Four The Golden Heltatia Chapter Five The Ancient Cities Chapter Six Arrtymer’s Folly Chapter Seven The Revelations Chapter Eight The Escape Chapter Nine The Sage’s Gifts Chapter Ten Nea Chapter Eleven Worth Chapter Twelve The Wink of an Eye Chapter Thirteen Epilogue Other Dreams Described Prologue Anthony Perhaps the Rain The Blue Bathing Suit Ode to a Marshmallow If a Candle I Would Be Just Because A Dream Described
About The Author

Frank D. Della Malva currently lives in Ontario, Canada, with his wife, Theresa. Retired from an executive position at a leading software development company based in Foster City, California, Frank has been fortunate to have traveled the world extensively. Born in Italy and educated in Ottawa, Canada, Frank has two adult children from a previous marriage, of whom he is extremely proud. The Epic of the Labyrinth and Other Dreams Described are his first books.
Dedication
For Joseph Daniel and Carolyn Emily,
my greatest gifts.
Sapere aude! Tuum est!
Copyright Information ©
Frank D. Della Malva (2020)
Dragon graphics Copyright © Ross Purvis (2020)
The right of Frank D. Della Malva to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs, and Patents Act 1988.
The right of Ross Purvis to be identified as the illustrator of the dragon graphics has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs, and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library. ISBN 9781788484398 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781528903578 (Hardback)
ISBN 9781528957472 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2020)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf London
E14 5LQ
Acknowledgement
The author wishes to acknowledge Tony Cosier, his teacher and friend, as the inspiration of this work. From that first discussion about allegories and metaphors, Tony was instrumental in exposing the hidden aspects of life’s journey right at the time when the author’s journey first began. Mentors and monsters, loves and lies and – most important of all – challenges and lessons surround you at every turn. Thank you, Tony, for describing life’s adventure.
The Epic of the Labyrinth
“Where no hope is left, is left no fear.”
– John Milton
‘Paradise Regain’d’


There Is A Tale Told Twice Inside
Where Icons Touch My Words Outside…
Chapter One

The Tour to the Second Door

he story I tell is much darker than hell
It’s a story that happened to me.
Of monsters and myths in a certain labyrinth
That some cynics say just can’t be
And I, too, was a cynic you see…
That morning was fair, there were birds in the air
And the cave was the next sight ahead.
So I went with the tour, though I thought it a bore
For I hardly cared less where it led.
But I went, feigning interest instead.
I had come here for rest, spend two weeks in the best
Of vacations and take in some air.
But the sheer boredom grew and with nothing to do
I decided to see what was there
In that cave labelled ‘Beyond Compare’.
I joined my tour’s line and picked up what was mine
And a brochure was handed to me.
Then we boarded a bus, just the thirty of us
Who wondered what we were to see
Of this cave and its dark mystery.
As the crowded bus rolled and all laughed and cajoled
I unfolded my crumpled brochure.
And I tried with my might to read up on this sight
Though the ride made my reading quite poor.
Yet these words became hard to ignore:
‘This cave of renown is found far above ground,’
Read the brochure in plain white and black.
’It is spacious inside; it’s as tall as it’s wide
And its door is a huge mountain crack,
But no measure of awe does it lack.’
I suppose I should mention that my scattered attention
Was seized by the words that I read.
For it seems that this cave was the site of a grave
That contained many thousands of dead.
I scanned on to find out what it said.
As I read, suddenly, in the seat ’front of me
A tall figure turned ’round at my way.
With a smile that contained yellow teeth, old and stained
He then nodded and bid me good day
As he purposely tapped his beret.
I responded in kind and discerned in my mind
That this man was our guide on this tour.
He seemed pleasant, all right, but what gave me a fright
Was the size of his hands. Yes, I’m sure
They were somewhat too large in contour.
He was pleasant enough though unkempt and quite gruff
And he smiled in a welcoming way.
Yet his hands, oh what hands, I could not comprehend
How they came to have grown in that way
To be odd and so huge where they lay.
Then he stood and I found we’d arrived at the ground
Of the foot of the mountain ahead.
Then the bus creaked and stopped and outside we all hopped Bringing all the brochures we had read
And began on the trail our guide led.
“Follow me!” called our guide, "Make two lines side by side
And we’ll climb up the path over here.
And please now take heed not to stray from my lead.
Very carefully watch where you veer.
The path’s rough at some places, I fear."
It was quite a steep climb and it took us some time
To walk all the way up to the place
Where the crack in this mound could be easily found
As to mark how to enter its face.
Still this passage unpaved held our pace.
Soon we walked in the core of the mount through its door
And all eyes and all mouths filled with awe.
And I, too, when my sight did adjust from the light
Had a curious wonder to draw
From the prospect ahead that I saw.
The tour guide then read what the brochures had said
About this austere gloomy cave.
He said men had died having entered inside –
Many men who were gallant and brave
Without a mere soul being saved.
He told how this place had two doors in its face
By the first we had entered this core.
But then his eyes widened as if he was frightened
To talk about that Second Door.
And he wrung his huge hands more and more.
He showed us a wall at the end of the hall
And he said at the end was the Door.
But he claimed he’d not dare to go way over there
It was evil, not less and not more
And he told us just why he was sure.
A labyrinth exists that the daylight’s not kissed
In thousands of long, lonely years.
It was locked up behind a door of the kind
That was there in the cave where we were.
Then he begged of the weak to stay clear.
He told of a man called the White Sage of Mordan
The keeper of that Second Door.
His eyes were as white as the moon in the night
And so was the cloak that he wore,
Ever wise of all legends and lore.
The labyrinth then led, our tour guide now said
To a city that flows with pure gold.
The sister of late to Atlantis the Great
It is known as Heltatia of Old
And its ancient tale’s never been told.
But then he made clear what was really to fear:
The horrible Dragon of Nor.
He was scaled in a sheen of a slimy blue-green
And survived on his filth and his gore
Always waiting within that feared core!
The guide noted well that the Red Gates of Hell
Have a saying inscribed their wall:
‘Leaveth all hope away ye who dare pass this way.’
And proclaimed it was there on the wall
Of the Door at the end of the hall!
The tourists, now scared that they’d even dared
To wander as far as they had,
Decided to leave if the tour guide agreed
From this place that they thought was so bad.
But I felt, though, we had somehow been had.
It would take me some time to believe that the line
On the Door and Hell’s Gate were the same.
I was curious, yes, but I must confess
That to leave would be such a real shame
And not see this great Door of ill fame.
While the group turned around without making a sound
I decided I wanted to stay.
So I looked to the wall at the end of the hall
And it really was not far away.
Who’d it hurt if I walked down that way?
Measured steps I did take knowing what was at stake
If on these sharp rocks I did fall.
I looked back to the guide, who was not yet outside
As his hands waved to round one and all.
Then I turned and saw lines on the wall.
The light was still dim, yet to my mirth and whim
I saw the Line carved ’bove the Door:
‘Leaveth all hope away ye who dare pass this way’,
Was it only a stunt of old lore?
Was it only a hoax that it bore?
It was twenty feet high and I don’t know why
But I thought I could open this wall.
So I heaved and I puffed till my strength was all snuffed
But the stone did not budge once at all.
It was fake! I was sure after all!
I stared at that place, gloating smile on my face
Recounting the lies the guide told.
There was no sage ’round here and no dragon to fear
And no city flowing over with gold.
And the line on the wall was just bold.
I was proud and turned ’round but I suddenly found
That my tour was nowhere I could see.
I started to run but my steps came undone
And I fell to the rocks suddenly –
My senses blacked out around me…
My head ached and spun like the blast of a gun
Had gone off from inside my poor brain.