A cruel wind blows across the barren plain, As earth's land and heavens sky battle time. Thy mortal man may never know truths pain, Whilst thee, Immortal God may not know mine. When heavens dark stars threw down their black spears - For mine is a sorrow that grows with thine - Thee empty lands are watered with lights tears, As spirits long to walk amongst our kind. Wash of rain against blood drenched sand, Clearing the taint of the hatred of man; Illuminated skies consume dark lands Bringing spirits to rise time and again. Thy eyes opened knowing all is now well, Only to find thyself still in that hell. *Shakespearean Sonnet
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In the depth of darkness falls, Dragon among his empty halls, Waking, stirring in the bleak; His heart gives a weak Thump, Thump, Beat, Beat. My frozen heart to his calls As a surge of fear enthralls, He rises; he comes to take from me The icy organ within my being. A vision approaches on a milk white steed To help soothe away the wyverns great greed, By my side, our voice entwine Our dragon falling among the weed vines, Asleep again - his body dust Star flakes rising from empty husk. The wings upon which he flew Now carry on them my wish anew, Warmth spread in my breast A new beat in my chest, Brought by new life from the love Of the Morrow's white Dove. * Free VerseThe What-If Game The skyline was the only thing that seemed to change. Buildings grew overnight and sprawled out their concrete and steel roots. Like weeds they reached towards the sky with their metal fingers as if they would pull the stars down to meet them. The brilliance of the sun prevented the sight of all the captured stars in the city, but he knew they were there without ever having to see them.
Lost in his thoughts, Tanis absently brushed dark hair from his eyes – a mental note made to get it cut. He turned from the large bay windows to settled his gaze on the door as it opened. A slender woman in a stylish grey pencil skirt, short heels and pale cream blouse smiled tightly when he noticed her. Her head bobbing in a slight bow as she lowered her eyes demurely. Fighting to keep the displeasure out of her voice. “Your two o’clock is here, Mr. Roark,” a deep sigh escaped him. “Send them in Amelia,” inclining her head she stepped back from the door. A motion made with her hand to encourage the visitors to enter. The moment she was out of the way a dark haired, dark skinned man entered, a beautiful pale blonde on his arm. The male tipped his head back while pushing up the brim of a simple pinstripe fedora, he grinned. It was a smile that was all fang and familiarity. The shine in his brown eyes made them seem almost red for a moment. “‘Mr. Roark’?” After Amelia closed the door, Tanis smiled, “You know how often names must change in our… in this world, Jonas. Cate.” The woman released her companion and swept over to Tanis. He raised a brow when she pulled on his suit tie to tug him down and planted soft kisses to each of his cheeks. A rumbled sigh escaped him at the familiar gesture, relaxing him more than he ever dreamed possible. “So, to what do I owe the honor?” Straightening up, he settled the invisible wrinkles in his suit. He took a moment to straighten his tie during the odd process. Allowing his eyes to examine his companions as he hadn't given himself leave to do before. Beyond the bounds of starry skies dwells the light within our eyes, The hearts of man aspire true to reach that place sans solitude, Listen to the voices cry rising to the Great on High. Among our dreams – been given wings – in our simple quietude, There are great hopes and flowers borne, Nourished by all man's love and our gratitude. However true this all may be, there are still those who scorn, 'How do you know this place is true? How can you even dare?' To these cruel words, the gentlest of smiles is worn. To these souls, a whispered word, a quiet murmured prayer; 'Learn to be still for in the quiet His voice is often buried,' And for those few, who listen true, they soon become aware. The views of men are many, with each belief quite varied, But among each heart there lies a wish, To stand whole - once his Soul's been ferried. He could never lose or miss, The silent whispers of that wish. *Terza RimaEnchantment There is much to be said of dreams. Such as, 'It does not do to dwell', And the world dreams – of dragons. It is not so much that dragons exist, Though often people fall under their spell, There is much to be said of dreams. It is knowing they're in our midst, Knowing they can be beaten as well, And the world dreams – of dragons. Not even the bravest can desist, Feeling their imagination swell, There is much to be said of dreams. It's a feeling like being kissed, A ringing within like a bell, And the world dreams – of dragons. Roars ringing with a twist, The beasts rising from the knell, There is much to be said of dreams. And the world dreams – of dragons. *VillanelleMy mind conceives of colors, Seeing the world unblemished, The belief of art in all things, Achieved through dedication. Seeing the world unblemished, Working and toiling away the day, Achieved through dedication, It is my personal success. Working and toiling away the day, The belief of art in all things, It is my personal success, My mind conceiving colors. *PantoumHe laughs at fear - afraid of nothing, Facing the track that swells ahead; His blood aflame, eagerly rushing. To drive ahead with all his heart, Knowing that the race is his art, He laughs at fear - afraid of nothing. The blue and white check is glimpsed, Lengths just grow and people wince, His blood aflame, eagerly rushing. The sound of the trumpet spurs him forth, And there is glory in that henceforth; He laughs at fear - afraid of nothing. Racing to reach the goal ahead, This is the moment for which he was bred, His blood aflame, eagerly rushing. He stole their hearts to take the Crown, All the while never slowing down, He laughs at fear - afraid of nothing, His blood aflame, eagerly rushing. *Villanelle[In Memory of Betty Mae Jenkins, 1930-1998; of Fred Henry Jenkins, 1928-2004] |
AuthorI'm a young woman from a small town in Georgia, currently displaced into the great white north. I'd say I'm intelligent, and creative; kind, empathetic and sometimes irritatingly blunt. ArchivesCategories |