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Moonlight Ride of the HorsemanDarkness hovers as a thick mist around,
Seeping into soft skin, penetrating light of Diana.
Upon the great mount, the White Horseman,
Mystic of ages, consul of secrets.
Ride upon the whispers of Silent Night,
In thy hand the grasp of souls.
And flowing mane of thy servant
Playing in tiptoe games with Wind.
Drink only of the raw dew does oneself,
Graceful droplets of the clean tree
In action of purity and sanctity.
To be clean of the ground thy tread,
Noiseless banter upon soft mud.
The ride is smooth as quicksilver,
Unattached to Their lonesome world
And yet still free from natures refuge.
Light prevails, upon darkness
That suffocates the wandering tract.
And fleeting glimpse of the ride,
Of one such as thee, blinds sight
A feeling of euphoric disillusion.
A pained uncertainty of sanity,
As illusion is the isle of Circe.
And still nameless stranger creeps.
Great black slender crept,
In silence upon splash of blood red.
Slowly to sink the
RustThe progression of the ambience upon the shadowy silhouettes,
A deep cut in natures grimace, no longer the melancholic silence.
Fresh dew, a varnish on the hovel, the foundry of man's emptiness,
His footprints bare and old, and knife is carcass to the rust.
But the noise is still existent, the ringing and chimes of
The scratch of the axe upon the flesh.
No longer screams, a melody of chimes and bells.
So sweet the music.
FleshThough flesh has left the earth,
Opiate, so sweet has not.
But stays rather,
An open wound.
Frequent guest of ours,
So close to thy heart.
Phthisis should be leaving,
Soon, upon my own departure.
Blinding to the senses of me,
Taste only knows sawdust,
Vision knows no colour,
Touch is an illusion.
And I, left ravage for the wolves.
Upon this empty bed,
Struggling to raise my hand,
Trying to grab your ghost.
Ghost there is not,
A picture frame instead.
Your timeless face,
To beautiful to be fully captured.
Forever expression you hold,
Always that weak smile,
Anticipation- lonesome sign,
The coming of the Reaper.
The Simplicity in DesireMy delirious lust hangs moist,
Once more for the sweet taste of your smile.
But what is gone forever, is forever lost,
And within your tabernacle lie only bones and echoes.
Like a dusty coffin, built to last only the showroom,
You are already beginning to fade.
And still your voice echoes throughout
Silent hallways upon the dry cracked covering.
Persistent as ever,
Never ceasing to shatter the heart.
The war was lost and the soldiers fell like toys
No matter the cries for an end, they all fell.
One by one their spirits risen,
As the Grandfather of the Stream
Will ride once more to lock them into eternity.
My doubts however resurface,
Eternity has never been what it seems.
What was dubbed eternal has always become mortal.
Even in the life of yourself,
You lied with every word from
Your soft lulling voice.
Your lullaby shambled,
Your foundation cracked,
Your picture ignited.
Forever lost, you yourself have ignited,
It was only the picture that kept you bound.
Lament for BeautyOh faint and distant glow so close and far,
How beautiful the paradox is a coercing reminder
Of the simplicity of the dry wood.
And the bark of the trees-old creaks tired,
A monument in the hot ash and embers,
Even they could not fall.
Instead forced to look upon the grave,
One thousand distant dreams shattered,
And lonely wails will cry on yet.
Oh great city home to the nymph,
Bird, and great Pan, charred and fallen
To its great enemy.
It is full of the smoldering reek of fresh,
Warm, thick blood, still wet upon the canvas.
Never meant to be cover't up.
But ash prevails, soot brimming
Into an amphitheater of what remains,
Animals burrow through the black.
Cancer of the scorched earth,
Eyes can barely grace with the fatal glance,
Beauty has withdrawn from this place,
Familiar becomes forgotten.
NightOn black wing'd horses thy approach,
Nightmarish carriage from blackest depths.
Into the heart to strike fear,
Among men, the fear of life, the end of light.
And hellish fiends of Styxian realm,
Minions of Shadow, knights of Pluto come.
To steel thy breathe cold hard trickle,
Like beaded dew, the frost, upon thy neck.
And from thy eyes vision stole,
End of sight, sanities farewell.
ViolinI remember the day
you told me violins
were strung with cat gut
and that is why
you hated music
(who says that to a child?)
I followed you
all that summer.
I watched you
grow away from mother -
your whiskey held better conversations
and all she did was cry.
We'd sit cross-legged on the porch
and count the horseflies
settling on our lunch.
You would drown tadpoles
in a bucket
surprised they could not swim
and I would dream
of cherry popsicles.
And when night would gather
on the sidewalk
I'd hold my breath
until a star appeared.
Don't bother making wishes
you'd tell me -
stars are dead weight in heaven
and God has cloth ears.
My School Says I'm Worthless (sort of a rant)I'm a criminal because my values aren't their values
And I'm scum to say the least
Because I'm not on their list
Ones who have their lives set out
And drink from molten glory raining down from
School top balconies...
And I have myself left to blame for all the non-attempts
And truancies; the bleak distractions
That help me escape the inviolable test-score stares
Of disapproval that I attract from their
And they're forced to ask me 'Why?
Why are you still here?'
And I can barely say
That I'm afraid to leave.
That I know that no-one knows
Or what they want to be
But unlike those
I gave up
A while ago
And they can't tell me to my face that I'm a failure so they heavily imply
That my lacking presence
And even less impressive
Tendency for slacking off is evidence
That I am stupid and a fool and nothing more than such a waste of resources
And it's a disappointment
That I don't hold their ideals
VesselYour heart is a compass.
Broken, perhaps, but I know
It’s always searching for the North Star.
Which way will your beard point tonight?
DanielYou are vertebrae
reinforced with titanium
that does not make you the lesser -
You’ve got the weight of the world
on one shoulder
sometimes you trip because of it -
you’re still walking
and if things fused wrong
post or anterior
and if things fused out in the interior
your circuits live on
and if your thoughts get circular
or so do your moods
and your mind blanks and you forget -
you’re nervous but strong -
then I’ll remind you.
Because you give me
the backbone required
you’re my Atlas, so I lift my head,
you’re my axis, so I can face the future
because you are vertebrae
reinforced with titanium.
You’re my inner strength.
FallingFailure after failure
A life not worth living
Lost in my misery
Long gone are the good moments
I keep falling
Nothing can save me now
Gone my hopes are
Because He'sHe’s listening
Millions of them.
A flash of red
And a navy hat
No warning – now motionless
With skin turned to shadows.
Nine TimesI saw him nine times.
The first time we were both sitting in the room together, getting ready to take the math test that would determine our placement. I was scatterbrained and throwing things around, trying to find the pencils that I had known I would need but had still just tossed in my purse. He was lounging backwards in his chair, looking for all the world as though he didn’t have a single care in the world, including the upcoming test. It annoyed me, that I was frantic and ready to scream, while someone else could be that relaxed.
I tested out of the class.
I don’t know if he did.
The second time I saw him, it was a few months after I arrived on campus. He was the one rushing and frantic this time, running across the square. He was probably late for class, though I had no way of knowing for sure. I was already lost in my own thoughts and ideas, deciding on my major and convincing people that yes, this is what I really want to do with my life. If they weren
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