I am the last lord of light!
I will hold at bay the hordes of darkness
that crash upon my knife in waves
of glorious blood and death!
Look at the bodies i leave in my wake,
look at the destruction and tears
that flow forth like the river stix.
Boatman!
Carry thier souls to Hades,
carry their souls to the underworld.
for i AM the last lord of light.
Verbal Rumination
Poetry is the theme for this blog..... or "The Random verbal diarea of a man who used to write." yeah, I like the second description better, its more truthfull.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Friday, March 18, 2011
PAINE
Tears you cry
with rage inside
would that i
could take inside
myself for you
to see you smile
like a sunlit day
on a cloudy night.
What you mean to me.
What you offer
I drink up like water
to hope I give the same
knowing I cant take that pain.
you are always in my thoughts.
with rage inside
would that i
could take inside
myself for you
to see you smile
like a sunlit day
on a cloudy night.
What you mean to me.
What you offer
I drink up like water
to hope I give the same
knowing I cant take that pain.
you are always in my thoughts.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Helping Hands
HELPING HANDS
broken down and hurt
hands of light
held me together through
the night.
Pain I sought.
Pain I found.
Hands easily crush
these dreams of safety,
these thoughts of warmth.
Hands a blanket.
Hands unbound.
Hands i fought.
Hold me down,
broken and hurt,
lift me up high.
Held me safe,
let me cry.
broken down and hurt
hands of light
held me together through
the night.
Pain I sought.
Pain I found.
Hands easily crush
these dreams of safety,
these thoughts of warmth.
Hands a blanket.
Hands unbound.
Hands i fought.
Hold me down,
broken and hurt,
lift me up high.
Held me safe,
let me cry.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
WERE THAT I A BIRD
Were that I a bird,
fly far, far from here.
dipping, swooping, swirling on outstretched wing,
a blur through mottled sun.
were, that I a bird,
on high, and low, from cloud to vale,
miles apart from place to place.
Were that I a bird
fly far, far from here.
dipping, swooping, swirling on outstretched wing,
a blur through mottled sun.
were, that I a bird,
on high, and low, from cloud to vale,
miles apart from place to place.
Were that I a bird
flit pas the edge of vision,
to fade gently in to the horizon,
a ghost of memory past.
Were that I a bird,
on bended wing to soar,
out of past, out of future,
never more.
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