Iowa Writes

MITCHELL HRUBY
Tears in Hell; A Ghost Story inspired by Eric Clapton


This is a tale of evil's defeat over good
A tale of what is, and a tale of what should.
A tale of sorrow A tale of woe,
A tale of deception by forces unknown.
This tale of mine will come as a shock
Deals with the devil, deals with rock.
You will come to see, as the tale is unfurled
How the help of Satan cost me the world.

My tale starts at the age of 19
I established my name by use of six-strings
A 59' strat, a struggling band
And Thursday night gigs were all that I had.
But I played with passion, I played with love
With determination to rise above
And slowly I did, and many could see
Still I was not the best on the scene.
To be the best, I yearned for it most
This was when I was approached by the ghost

I should have known, by the name that he kept
The words that he spoke or the way that he crept
He had beady eyes, and a voice that was shrill
When I shook his hand my body shivered with chill
But I ignored the signs, my mind clouded with dreams,
When he promised I could be the best there could be.
"My names Don Faust, and I see you've got skill,
You've got the look, and guitar licks that kill.
But you're missing something; you can be more than you are
Sign with me, and you will go far.
You'll rise to the top, be the best that will live
You've just got to promise me your soul to give."

This is a tale of evil's defeat over good
A tale of what is, and a tale of what should.
A tale of sorrow A tale of woe,
A tale of deception by forces unknown.
This tale of mine will come as a shock
Deals with the devil, deals with rock.
You will come to see, as the tale is unfurled
How the help of Satan cost me the world.

My tale starts at the age of 19
I established my name by use of six-strings
A 59' strat, a struggling band
And Thursday night gigs were all that I had.
But I played with passion, I played with love
With determination to rise above
And slowly I did, and many could see
Still I was not the best on the scene.
To be the best, I yearned for it most
This was when I was approached by the ghost

I should have known, by the name that he kept
The words that he spoke or the way that he crept
He had beady eyes, and a voice that was shrill
When I shook his hand my body shivered with chill
But I ignored the signs, my mind clouded with dreams,
When he promised I could be the best there could be.
"My names Don Faust, and I see you've got skill,
You've got the look, and guitar licks that kill.
But you're missing something; you can be more than you are
Sign with me, and you will go far.
You'll rise to the top, be the best that will live
You've just got to promise me your soul to give."

He showed me money, women and fame
All would be mine if I played his game
So I signed his contract, written in red
With the blood of my own, and the blood of my friends.
My soul for skill, that was the swap
And it wasn't long after I rose to the top.
With sold out concerts, I was better than all
Compared to god on subway walls
Thanks to devil, I had fulfilled my dreams
But I soon would find out it wasn't all as it seems.

Years went by, and it slipped from my mind
The evil contract that I had once signed
I blew it off as a dream from the past
Until I saw the devil again at last
It was through a great man that we met again
The purpose to be the death of this friend.
A left-handed brother with a vicious sound
Became my companion, the best player around
An electric monster my friend soon became
Headlining Woodstock and rising to fame
I was happy for him and what he would create
To rise to greatness I thought was his fate
We partied one night, drinking and such
When my friend had one drink too much
"Hey bartender, let me have one more drink"
And the beady-eyed man handed it to him with a wink
"Don't worry about this one, it's on the house"
Said the bar tender, the devil Don Faust.
He leaned over and said to me with a sigh
"Your friend is better, now he must die
I keep my word like I grip your soul tight
You'll be the best again after this night."
Sure enough, my friend never awoke
But the news blamed it on the liquor and coke
They were the devil's vices, and only I could tell
The contract I signed was why my friend fell.

To meet him again became my biggest fear
And unfortunately, my tale doesn't end here
I devoted my life to improving my craft
So no more would die on my behalf
I toured the world, and found the one
We fell in love and had a son.
I loved him so much; he meant the world to me
But the devil took him at the age of three.
It was midnight and after a show
I received a call he fell out our window.
I caught a cab home, my sanity lost
When I noticed the driver was Don Faust
"You goddamn bastard" I screamed at him
"Why would you take him, he was only a kid!"
He chuckled and said "I'm sorry that it was his fate,
He would grow up to be the best player to date
Don't argue with me, it's a simple fact
I had to take him because of our pact.
I promised you to be the best player to live
But the ability to do so only God can give
I am not a liar so don't call me one
But that is why I took your friend and your son
For they stood in the way of my only goal
And that goal is to own your soul.
See, your greed for glory your need for fame
Has taken everything and left you only a name
A name you owe to me as far as I can tell
And a name that will spend eternity in hell
At last here's your stop, I say farewell".

I tell this tale of deceit and mourning
To share my sorrow and suggest a warning.
I lost loved ones because I had cheated
And lost my soul forever defeated
So if ever approached by the temptations of hell
Remember this sad tale that I tell
A tale of unfair gain of fame and wealth
A tale never as good as if earned by yourself.

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About Iowa Writes

Since 2006, Iowa Writes has featured the work of Iowa-identified writers (whether they have Iowa roots or live here now) and work published by Iowa journals and publishers on The Daily Palette. Iowa Writes features poetry, fiction, or nonfiction twice a week on the Palette.

In November of 2008, the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) designated Iowa City, Iowa, the world's third City of Literature, making the community part of the UNESCO Creative Cities Network.

Iowa City has joined Edinburgh, Scotland and Melbourne, Australia as UNESCO Cities of Literature.

Find out more about submitting by contacting iowa-writes@uiowa.edu


MITCHELL HRUBY

Mitchell Hruby is a student at the University of Iowa.

This page was first displayed
on August 01, 2011

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