Oh, differing souls
One of solace
One of rage
A keeper of the peace
A war within a cage
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Temples diametric
Seeking love
Seeking pain
Balance to a world
Imbalance for a gain
Tag: #Poetry
AZRAEL… a dark poem
Woe, to the eyes that saw me
In the lackluster, deluge
Of yesterday’s dream.
What sayeth thee?
Ye of night vision
And chilled, blackened stares?
Are thee an owl?
Perched high above
And watching for human pray?
Whilst the stars witness
You prowl within the mind
Wreaking havoc upon those
Unwitting, and unwilling souls.
You are the embodiment of screams.
Nightmare flees when
You infest the scene.
You are terror incarnate – Azrael.
SEASON OF REFLECTION… a poem
A honeycomb reflection
Bringing smiles
Bringing tears
Remembrance of a season
Passing days
Passing years
She sat on her veranda
With a teacup in her hand
Soaking in the fragrance
She once shared
She loved her man
Sunlight glistens beautifully
In that cup of liquid gold
The years, they had been good to her
Oh, the stories that she told
And for the lines and wrinkles
That creep across her face
Not a single would she trade
To be in any other place
Ouch… a silly Haiku
Ouch! What was that thing?
I’m going to kill those kids.
Dang Leggo pieces!
DISFUNKTATION… a messed up poem
Nothing to see here folks… Move along!
Photo by Rachel Lynette French on Unsplash
The dogma of this hyperbole
Leaves me wondering if it’s true
For ages the story has been told
But, then again, it’s new
“I’s” are crossed with dotted “T’s”
While “Z” runs down to “A”
The sun and moon switch places
As night becomes the day
Birds, they swim, while fish, they fly
So colorful this black and white
Snow is warm on a Summer’s day
Cough, cough… I say, gesundheit
GLADE OF ESTERHEIN… a poem
Secrets held in the Glade of Esterhein
Protected by the Leprechaun King
Shadows cloaked from sunlight’s spies
Camouflaged from mortal beings
Custody for not man to hold
For centuries have they lain imbued
Spilling their sides, these pots of gold
A fever of platitude
Aye, to the wiser who walk this field
‘Tis better to turn one’s head
For if ye ever stumble and steal
Surely, you will end up dead
RESPITE… a poem
Cascading against a torrent
Of delusion and indecision
She stood, facing the sea.
From the cliff, high above,
She watched the crashing waves
And heard their Siren’s whisper in her ears.
“Join us!”
What brought her to this point?
What is she really here to do?
Swaying ever so slightly
Into the breeze
That assaulted her…
She turned to make her way
Back home.
