As All Hallows’ Eve approacheth my thoughts turneth to darkest dread,
Whilst in old age I harboureth a deep fear of seeing this one’s grim head;
Me thinks the Grim Reaper cometh this time with his scythe in hand,
Which striketh maximum fear in me and maketh him feel quite so grand.
Death and darkness doth pervade this spirit’s intent from that great beyond,
And bringeth one a chilling fear if one’s destiny be unending Hellspawn;
All Hallows’ Eve is the image I conjureth of my imminent departure,
But I hopeth for divine intervention and protection during this departure.
For I shan’t want to feel the fear and malediction of the Grim Reaper’s gaze,
As he eerily walketh in the deep mist to bringeth my soul into that darkest haze;
I prayeth then Oh Lord God, haveth an Angel escort me on my final trip beyond,
And spareth me the Grim Reaper’s terrifying visit and his image of Hellspawn.
I asketh thy divine power and all goodness in protecting my eternal spirit and soul,
And delivereth them to Heaven on All Hollows' Eve most sound and quite whole!
Amen! Amen! Amen!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, Schoeningen, Germany
(October 25, 2014) (Shakespearean Sonnet in a Rhyme poetic format)
Before the days when man first sinned
Angels traveled upon the wind
Everything magic shone in the night
Fairies fluttered, wings shining bright
Eve was perfect with long flowing hair
Sensuous body, delightfuly bare
Adam's body strong, he was a sight
They played by day and made love at night
Everything perfect, living in the trees
Yet trouble called upon a gentle breeze
The serpent said taste, this fruit so grand
Eve so entranced, she ate from his hand
She saved fruit for Adam, he took a bite
The garden went dark, no more magic light
A sonnet in The Wind Contest.
Written September 9th, 2013
Sponsored by: Poetess Darkly
The amaryllis yawns in bed of white
The fall of day paints shadows on the rose
Each flower is a ward of solemn night
Their gentle sleep upon which none impose
Beyond the halls and down the drowsy stair
Into the hallowed stillness of the lake
Illuminating every pebble there
The moon believes that no one is awake
Yet bittern watches all with eyes of gold
Alighted new in absence of the light
And with his lusty call so clear and bold
He breaks the quietude and then takes flight
A ripple in the water seeks the shore
It meets the rocks and ripples there no more
A Demon Confesses
I shun the light and do so cast the stone,
rot the meat , ravenously eat the bone
Cut my way deep in every man that falls,
eat my thrills as my victim mercy calls!
Shadows, adorning my cloaks worn with pride,
once entered I rot the mind as I ride
Pain and agony my pets serve so well,
my purpose, sending 'em all right to Hell!
Long claws my daggers I do finely shine,
accept my gifts, your soul then is all mine
Dark laughter is my sweet joy letting loose,
long is you wail, your head is in my noose!
I too, serve my dark master very well
loyal demon, freed from the bowels of Hell!
no date- Edited today, shortened to a sonnet
written so very long ago!
A taste of dark,
demons a reality so very stark,
I write safely within this brilliant light
spewing truth out to win another great fight..-08/24/2014
A waking up, do I, Dark Poet, need
to shake my creature core from sheltered sleep.
A seed has taken root as bitter weed
that sprouts from disappointments buried deep
inside me, where a well-hid wild thing
with armored skin lifts groggy head to breathe.
No fire escapes its mouth, for it must cling
to courtesy although its blood should seethe.
If roused, the beast could overstep its bounds
and though I’ve tamed it well, I sometimes hear
in dusky dreams its melancholy sounds.
Before the dawn its murmurs disappear.
On bitter weed subsists my dragon child.
Oh, should I let it rest. . . or wake the wild?
For Irma's Dark Poet contest
Life can be such a cruel thing at times
We should all have a little bit of faith
We all have our own personal form of crime
But I don’t guess that is always the case
Even in dark light will shine
No matter what it will always break through
At some point we must all find our own kind
No matter what we should always stay true
Even in the dark always keep a smile
The light inside will find a way to shine
To find it we walk the endless miles
When we find it, it will be so divine
Surely it shouldn’t be this hard to find
We do what we can to not cross the line
Choices, Voices and Bad Company
Bang , bang , gunshots in heated night air sang
jump back , be careful where you nightly hang
Fun, fun , going where the night action stays
danger waits hidden when nights replace days!
Kick it, kick it, time to chase the gals
beware safety gone if you hang with pals
So carry a shooter , step up your game
name in the paper soon may be your fame!
Hold on, hold on, your future life has game
you grab future rejecting drugs so lame
Stand up , a man that carries his own weight
yield not to greed, lust and all useless hate!
Live on, living to find your star and shine
Live on, love in life , love so very fine!
Robert J. Lindley 08-24-2014
Note: A sonnet that presents today's life choices are
often far more serious when made than young
people can realise. Seeking action and thrills
always come with a cost. Quite often a deadly cost!
Don't freely decide to get yourself so lost!
Been there, down that, long ago..
Thy sightly, blooming charm, gents' thoughts enthralled,
and attar's scent, their wonderment inflamed,
revealing and contoured thy dressing mould,
transformed their sentiments to status maimed!
The short, designer-made and bold tight skirts,
thy geodetic curves embraced like gloves,
where insolent, male feelings, made for birds,
provoked thine ardour and my savage shoves.
Thou courted wert, by the surrounding plebe,
that dull and raw, with amateurish flair,
undaunted forged inventiveness, and dweeb
they lionhearted tried to kiss your hair.
Disdained, the suitors though, exclaimed defeat,
thy beau's wrath proved their charming obsolete.
© 11-11-2013, G.V., All Rights Reserved
(Hmm... Don't let my smile cozen you. I am still very angry!)
I cut to see if I feel how it's like being human,
I cut to see the pain relinquish inside,
I cut for all the memories that remain to drain down in the sewage
What symbols life runs with death in that rusty pipe.
A slash here and a slash there,
What happened in the past?
A slash here and there,
Soon the memories don't last.
Scissors, knives, razors and sharp edges
keeps a bloody smile, no more weep.
Slice and dice, trim more than the hedges
And I don't care if I go to deep.
One scar closer to a never ending dream,
I don't care if I go to deep.
The fear of darkness seems to threaten most
When one is lost and groping in the dark
Of self. One blames unknowns—the devil, ghosts
Or even God—for fright that comes with stark,
Cold, empty blackness. Courage will depart—
Just like a pearl dropped in a sea of ink,
Its glow will die—while fear's black magic art
Revives despair between each hurried blink
Of eyes which stare at shadows that incite
Imaginary monsters of the mind.
But oft these visions are the mirrored sight
Of what one sees within when eyes are blind—
For darkness lights and magnifies the whole
Dim panorama of the troubled soul.
© Sandra M. Haight 2014
All Rights Reserved
Contest: Monsters and Marvels
Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi - Judged 10/14/2014
My morning retirement ritual,
Provides breakfast to the birds on my street.
Food for fowl, silencing bellies that growl,
Watching the many hundreds gather near,
Huddled together on branches they meet,
With a calm patience we’ve learned to revere.
Feeding the birds of every pedigree,
Flying things, all sizes, colors, and shapes.
Hungry beaks, vibrant feathers, sharp clawed feet,
Small Finches and Wrens, large Sparrows come round.
Harmoniously singing us awake,
Their only care: yummy seeds on the ground.
My morning retirement ritual,
Feeding the birds of every pedigree.
1) Sonnet written in Anapestic Pentameter
wandering in thoughts.
promises and hopes.
Hand in hand,
tumbling on slopes.
This is love
Running away from this world.
Warm bodies sliding in sheets,
to find another world.
Burning in cold flames.
No fear ... no shame ... no games
This is love
Dusk, the end of day, the soften bed of moonlight,
brings wild thoughts within its sultry shadows musing.
Belle Lune, fair damsel, bringing love and fright,
release my tongue-tied self, please allow my crooning.
Troubadours have strung the onyx sky with comet
tails glittering white, and bowed each string to unite
the pensive poet's heart and that of his fair coquette;
see them sway, a dance displayed amour in the moonlight.
Shadows deepen, have they left, thought hard, grown contrite
or has the moon, amused, drawn shadows 'round as gowns?
Will he rise at dawn, curtains drawn, write of the night?
The maid, the moon, the well so deep, the heat profound
calls to him in memory, now cooled by harsh light.
For now, there is, but the empty page of daylight.
You were a shining Star.
Few of many in the sky.
Looking up so very high,
Not knowing why you are.
Close and set you are far.
Spinning flames knot a tie,
I note a pattern just like pi.
Colliding with me you spar.
So burn it up and burn away,
Sow your heart upon a plane.
Chart your distance in the clay.
Burn it all up then call it sane.
The explosion in the sky is His death.
All burned up He has no last breath.
(R) Registered: 2013 Ann Rich
I turned and find the pillow now so cold
You are not there now for me to hold
Was it only through night’s dark hours?
Is sleep so cruel to wield such powers?
To take you from me though you were not there
Dreams so cruel not to answer my sweet prayer
You felt so real and you held me so tight
My special dream lover through the dark night
Entwined together as one, not parted
Not a thread between love uncharted
To sail the hours on waves rising high
Hearts in rhythm souls touching and sigh
To turn and find that you were not there
Left me bereft incomplete not one of a pair.
© ~GG~ 30/12/2012
The creatures that could fly, flew out this night
They brought forth their powers, with them their might
The black dragon is largest on the list
They are the strongest, waving their clawed fist
Next would have to be the fairies so trim
Wielding dark talents purely on a whim
The dark gargoyles fly around with great ease
Spreading the fear of death and dire disease
As sure as you think the darkness would win
An angel flies high, way up in heaven
She saves the Earth from all evil around
Drops down some angel dust right to the ground
And quick as a flash evil leaves this place
Angels left to sing the beauty of grace
Entrant into Gail Doyle's "Angel Dust" contest
-- James Ph. Kotsybar
The zombies are coming; no one knows why –
no time to ponder such things anyhow.
Apocalypse gives us no time to cry.
Survival is all we can think of now.
They hunt for us in slow, relentless mobs
and push past all our barricades by force.
We stifle our screams and swallow our sobs
to realize we are just their food source.
There may exist a ruling, safe elite –
the privileged who caused our current woes
and watch us as we’re torn apart like meat –
but likely they’re no better off. Who knows?
For us, they won’t sweep in to save the day.
To them, we never mattered anyway.
In A Hotel Room
In a hotel room, she lies, literally to herself.
Their meetings filled with desire are brief.
How can she put her dignity on a shelf
Lost, between the crumpled sheet.
As a friend I helplessly watch
As her happiness turns to shame
All the joy before is lost
Falling for this hoodlums game.
There is no love in a hotel room
Used for trysts and rendezvous
As she leaves she's filled with gloom
Not the girl that I once knew.
Players play for keeps
no conscience they can sleep.
This eerie night when the moonlight drips down
Tips of the stars reach out to all this night
Darkness has its reign during this night’s crown
Showing Halloween the master of fright
Took the last pumpkin to its resting place
They’re lit for respect of the dead tonight
All are glowing wildly within their space
Alight to bring awe and joy from this sight
Children love to see the path of pumpkins
Frightfully dressed to scare with all their might
Some of them look like they have rotting skins
To front porch they walk smiling with delight
They get their candy and scream to enjoy
The night sure adds to the fun with their joy
Startled I see my dream again tonight
Awaking from within me deepest fright
Creeping from out my misty eyed slumber
The beast inside me began to lumber
Catching myself in front of the mirror
Your eyes beside me, your shrieks of terror
Wax smelt courage, your trigger finger slight
Now you see me in a different light
Soft moonlighted skin dotted with twin holes
For my ravens guide me to sinful souls
Now conjuring up your holy spirits
Refuse you the truth because you fear it
And yet again I wake a lonely Knight
My dear, come here, promise I won't bite
December 18, 2012
Beautiful lies known as little white lies
yet one is no more deceptive than each
The truth is what makes it afraid of light
It's important we practice what we preach
Imagination built on lies destroy
Imagination built on truth create
Conquering evil we try to avoid
Tooth fairy, Halloween, Santa abate
Perceptions and images make it real
Origins of Pagan rituals true
We've wandered down this path for a bum deal
Now more lies are created all brand new
The mask behind a beautiful white lie
is the truth with a constant shield, but why?
Humanity's ebb tide flows from dark shores
Leaving the innocent with no regret
Surrenders morality for life's wars
Unleashing turmoil that none can forget
Whose righteousness follows the chosen course?
Those who battle hard with their passion's stole
Who leave the weeping lay, with no recourse
As wounded do battle, an empty soul
Deep in their darkness, finds a pit
A hell created by a heart alone
Wallowing in denial, flames commit
Then perish through ages like ashen bone
This hunger for death that you can't rescind
Humanity's last breath, gone with the wind
contest Gone with the Wind
Expanding lead, the songs to dome and lands unknown,
where ancient schemes and mysteries denote the search,
the foliage leaves announcers are and shadows grown
transmit to find the final ports where souls converge.
Along the cause, the reasons change on saddened dawn,
foretelling prophetess from skies implements lies,
about the souls' ulterior route - of dark drapes drawn,
beside the will of the cold winds that spell demise.
The ghosts define with howling songs the nightly dark,
souls hark the calls inviting them where feelings flare,
and angels confer skyward trip where they embark,
while blurry visions of the tears reside in glare.
Along the sorrow of souls gone, serene and calm,
spreads up the chapels' knell salute to skies' realm.
© 03-11-2013, All Rights Reserved
(A hexameter sonnet)
I am stained from the things I've done,
I try to hide from them,
But they chase and I cannot outrun,
Slowly pulling me to requiem.
Depression has sung eternally,
The hate hangs in the notes,
Driving me to insanity,
The pain is so cutthroat.
Falling through the darkness,
The despair pulls me down with its weight,
It eats at me and leaves me lifeless,
But the pain slowly abates.
I am afraid to feel,
Anything thats real.
Your head is dead a chamber vast and void
and nothing's what you think on anymore
forgotten are all things you once enjoyed
and are replaced by life the constant bore.
Your brain's been drained you sit alone and stare
all hope's run out, your heart is solid stone
from night to day and day to night it's there
the wish to be forgotten and alone.
You think and sink into Oblivion
not caring if you fade or if you die
but only that you shed the shell you're in
you've gone beyond the questioning of why.
You are the death, the dark of greatest fear
the song of life only the dead can hear.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
With great fervor they write without end
Pretty words that could not even be read
Though he tried, he had no will to lend
The voice inside expiring, left for dead
There was some pleasure even concern
Pondering the loss of the bonds formed
The thought he could not even discern
His own demons, now left him scorned
No more adventure left in his lost soul
What could they truly understand in him
No more desire, he tried to form a goal
A pursuit also that left him without whim
What more can I do, but write these things I feel
What more can I say, I have nothing left to reveal
That house we abandoned last winter—I wondered
How has it turned out to be? A mess of wilderness;
A house overgrown with gloom in full bloom, poisonous hatred,
And creeping vines of thorny lies. Reeking of rotten loneliness,
That house we abandoned last winter sickens and haunts me
With its fireplace: once it burned warm with radiant mirth.
Its wooden floor creaks under my weight; each surface dusty
With failing hope. I can see it—nothing but still dearth.
The house stands at the verge of existence: godforsaken
Like a disowned child, it looks like it could topple any time.
The house stands and sways tiredly, peeking to deep oblivion.
I listen. I hear it silently sings to me lines that hardly rhyme.
Hey, I don’t know if you could even vaguely remember,
But I do miss that house we abandoned last winter.
Into the silvery moon beans stepped
a damsel most comely, hair spun like gold
shiny dagger at her waist kept clasped
towards her victims she was so ice-cold
She enticed them into her dark world
there to seduce and send them insane
captivated them as round she swirled
once they were caught, then them she would constrain
Bending them to her hot fiery passions
by love alone she could hold them spellbound
in her arms there were no earthly frictions
her lithe body kept their love newfound
Come to me, love me she sang with rapture
now your soul , I will hunt down and capture
The solemn lives on skyward paths ascend
their pass on fields aside the Mistral tunes,
ambrosian solitude, to skies' transcend
confreres of sweeping winds and smiling moons.
You'll live in solitude when sail boats brail
remote and strong then you'll transform to shades
expatriated on your dreams lost trail
- your unattended feasts no time abrades.
Amid the shades be taller than the winds
when slopes receive your soul's' disruptive flow
will be the carmine spring that weaves rescinds
betrothment that the runnel wraiths bestow.
The baptismal winds' mystery refrain
ascending, taller makes your soul than rain.
In the darkness he resides, awaiting
Coming soon he will escape, to sure bring
His darkness onto the world around him
He feels his darkness brooding to the brim
His strength exceeds the normal of power
And he could reach out killing a flower
He grasps the bark of the tree where he’s trapped
Hoping he can reach in darkness, not strapped
He massages his hands outside his jail
Pulls with the essence of darkness but pale
He can’t bring himself out of his prison
His effort left him numb from this session
Slowly with a growl the witch cowers back
Tucking his hands back inside his pale pack
Contest: WITH THESE HANDS
Sponsor: nette onclaud
Pumpkins litter the yard, lit to enjoy
All with scary faces, some filled with joy
I see the yard because of the pumpkins
It’s as if it’s day, light shines from their skins
Next to them is dormant tree looking old
Which has many jack-o-lanterns to hold
Some are strung up on many strings in threes
Each one of them is lit bringing me ease
There is a witch standing under the tree
Bringing great fear into everybody
The pumpkins all worship her completely
For she brings them power all evilly
Up in the tree a warning is posted
An owl sends chills that the pumpkins boasted
When I walked into the house
Glory spread like nightingales asleep.
There was no one home to jest or joust
A lover's Tranquil sat in the air to keep.
This third ghost wailed in silence, dark and deep.
I made for the back door to wait outside for my love,
She arrived, with showering surprise, with a soul to keep,
As I sat still in the dark and the cold like a listless dove.
We roamed about the next morning in yellow and mauve
Grabbing school things and work clothes and bathroom time.
Shoving each other towards the car and the ice and the rain above
We drove off with the 3rd ghost left far behind.
Moving like humans in love with free will and a wheel,
Driven to desire to touch, taste, and feel.
Crackling the electric feel of the bolt
The lightning comes crashing down in revolt
The red sky turns black as night approaches
Storm enters filling me as it broaches
Across the sky it moves, the bolt passes
Fear enters my heart, as seen with glasses
Fierce the lightning moves through the dark lit air
Crashing openness that brings some despair
Tingling feeling you never want to feel
Might bring an ending to your life, for real
Bad scare turns night into a fearful place
Lightning brushes with fate and has own face
Crashing down within the dark midnight sky
Bolt sears the air, no pain could you deny
Your darkness was clear as you came into sight
As you circumstantially sucked air from the room,
Still, I nurtured my faith with hope for some light
As I denied the truth of your doom;
Then you consumed my soul, with such sinister bites
As each nibble cloaked behind you tender kiss,
Led to the collection of all those countless nights
As I laid empty beneath you captivated by bliss;
Now alone and aged, left with these voids to tally
As they reveal I have nothing left to conceal,
I understand and confess how my spirit betrayed me
As it was my choice after all… to be your meal.
Darkness will devour us with gluttonous ease and little trial,
When we discount reality... and the consequence of denial.
Written: 03/26/2013 for Sinister Contest
Through omens they received the sign,
defenders' skull bones did appear,
bare-white to burn upon the shrine,
death nested in their souls and fear.
Above the skulls were lit tall flames,
brigades of demons came to border,
they knew that Hell's dark legions' fame,
precedes the advent of manslaughter.
Thus brave the knights defend the castle,
behind the lines lords' horses snort,
the steel blades blood-clot in battle,
while women and children depart.
Membranophones of death hassle,
The demons' force invades the castle.
© G. V. 12-15-2012, All Rights Reserved
It’s been a long, long time.
I hope that you still remember me,
I’ve been hiding quite a while, deep inside.
I know that you know all things
Still, I think I should explain,
The reason I’ve been hiding
Is because of all the shame, because of all the pain.
I know that I don’t look so great
For meeting up with you tonight, in the hue of bedroom light
But I hope you understand
I’ve been alone since I was three, there was nobody caring, just me, you see.
You probably see the dirt marks
And smudges on my face…. and heart
But it seems no matter how I try
Some things I just can’t erase.
They say that eyes are windows
they peer into the soul.
I’m afraid that if you look there,
You’ll find it dark and cold, my soul half, not whole.
I’m not sure why it is, Lord,
But you won’t see any tears.
I guess they’ve just been cried up all these years.
I know that limp and lifeless
Is my unruly heart.
I guess that’s just what happens
When no one really cares, when your childhood is ripped apart.
And if you ask a question
I really do not have much to say.
I’ve found that no one really wants
To hear me talk about it anyway.
And if you care to listen,
Sit quiet and you’ll hear
How hard my heart is pounding.
That’s because of all the fear.
You’ll notice that I wrapped my arms
Around me all the time.
I did that for protection
Of the things that should have been mine.
See, not so very long ago, Pg.2
Without an ounce of care,
That monster took away from me
Things I never meant to share.
And if you find I tremble inside
When you come close to me,
It’s because of all the dreadful things
That someone did to me, and they tried to hide.
Jesus I’m so sorry, if I disappointed you,
If these things have saddened you.
But when I cried out to you
You never told me what to do.
I know that in my mother’s womb
You created me
And I can’t help but wonder
Is this what I was meant be?
They say that you are everywhere,
With each and every one,
But it seems that on those dark nights
You left me all alone, just for him to take to play, to give me away.
They tell me that you love me
And I suppose it’s true,
But Jesus, please remember, they whispered it,
In the darkness and the stench
They said they loved me too.
© Theresa Rossouw
Is my life not tortured enough for you to see?
I am broken as can be.
My heart is torn.
My tears stain these perfect floors.
Why are singing with glee?
Why do you not care about my every plea?
I am trapped in your arms.
I am the hopeless moth.
How did you pick me?
What is it that you see?
A girl untouched by life?
A flower blooming in the desert?
I have said goodbye to my loving integrity.
You took that from me through R-A-P-E.
I ****ing hate myself and want to die.
In Utero, I deem inspiration,
but not sarcasm or imitation.
My anguish is authentic and a cry
for help, but why would people waste their time?
Not like their so-called justification
for concern is any indication
that they care enough to bawl, weep and cry.
Nobody will even care when I’m gone,
much less the violated deity.
For that, I am ungrateful and alone.
I scorned her body with a written piece.
A conclusion which should have been forgone.
Forgone like death, which should put me at ease.
What happens to passion untamed?
Does it consume one
like night does to the light?
or spread through one's body--
and then become ferocious?
Does it look like a savage beast?
or somehow turn into love--
like when two hearts meet?
Maybe it just remains there
like a stone.
or does it drive you to the tomb?
Oh, yes indeed, you thought you had lost him.
All was well, you thought you're on easy street.
Your pathway was strewn with flowers and then
nothing to look forward to but to greet
grandchildren at the door, parcel out love,
forbearance accumulated in a
lifetime. Live life orderly and above
the board you built from illusions just a
little and dreams just a lot. One dark night
you awoke. That dark canine of chaos
and despair was back, sniffing, scratching right
there at your front door, the side of your house,
indomitable and stupid and near,
drawn like a dog to the heat of your fear.
He knows the fog that counts his steps tonight
So proud, the crow, stands on the wires, alone;
what made him bleed before the brinks of light,
defined by emptiness and mountain stone?
The fog surrounds the crow in early dark
what else deserved to be once more recalled
remained to warn the souls that stare and hark
"this shroud descends your being to enfold".
Ethereal, departs on his ascension trail,
stouthearted is his life's long path, my Lord;
the crow unfolds in white engulfing veil,
his stalwart wings on Mistral's wailing chord.
And infinite became his nightly flight,
above the cedars croaked his skyward rite.
© G.V. 06-11-2013 All rights reserved
Like Edgar Allan Poe I live in death
and in dread of "The Raven," that dark rime
of gloominess in that bird of dark time
and evil spirits, ghosts, and haunted breath.
Contemptible bird! You've arrived from Hell
and from the nightmares of mine own bedtime
to punish me for my sin and my crime:
indifference to God and to what's well.
O hell-spawn, dreadful creature of the wing!
Must you condemn me for the dead Lenore
with the dark ebb and flow of your cruel sting?
Like Poe, I have crossed o'er your evil door
and into the abyss of this curséd thing....
O Raven! I, like Poe, do die therefore.
This hour is oh, so beautiful
I sit, and I devour it all
As silence fills my heart and soul
This sunset makes me feel so whole.
I watch the sun approach the ocean
Absorbed I am in deep devotion
As I see it melt into the sea
And oh, the joy, the mystery!
The sky fills up with orange hue
It’s lost its color, azure blue
And as the sun drowns in the sea
This beauty, how it touches me
The orange hue grows deep, then dies
Bringing darkness to the skies
As birds sing out there goodnight song
To tell the silence ‘Day is gone’
I sit and ponder on this show
Then leave it all, and home I go.
29 June 2014 @ 1337hrs.
For foster ill informed author,
Of the pathetic unified change.
Distributed empty into the offer,
Charming established and never strange.
Climb alongside dynamic govern,
Prevent recondite or exclamation.
Near dangerous pioneers burn,
When in shrill or uttermost exploration.
Ambiguous and verified to be attractive,
Having narcissus by narrow selection.
Too accomplished of velvet missive,
And actual tawdry of substance's complexion.
Overt professed to be scaled simplistic,
And parched with vacation of the heuristic.
For years, I walked through my garden of excuses,
beautifully laid out, symmetrical and abundant.
The tapestry of seduction and deceit, fertile ground
for my field of illusions, with new growth ripening,
under the constant warmth of the gliding sun.
Blissfully, I tended that site, accessible to no one,
ritually, I covered my tracks, and gave nothing back.
Until the weather changed. My labyrinth garden,
my identity came under siege, the wind and the rain
washed it all away, exposing the broken bedrock below.
My barren soul, rootless and drained, drifted into dark
shadows without a trace. Freedom claimed me,
Illuminated me, called me home. My watery eyes
and fragile, pounding heart became my throne.
The echo of wine is sadness, jokes told are
not funny and laughter is a bronchial cough.
Mirth gone when Sunday is despondent,
an autumnal leaf that drags itself along
a clammy asphalt road.
Wrinkled faces framed by nylon shawls,
hesitate by church steps as wanting to hear
more words of everlasting love;
before going home to empty rooms and
dripping kitchen taps.
October drizzle on Sunday´s best, bat wings
open up and the murmur of the future less
is a dying repeat; as the padre smokes
a cigar in the vestry, wine has lost its glow.
Sheets of rain, lit up sky, flapping wind,
relieve my angry atmosphere.
She smiled twice and all was clear.
Once for no reason, and once more,
to ensure it was over for sure.
The weight of my sadness, that
heaving load behind me, reminding me,
making me cautious, awkward and
anxious. Caught in an animal trap.
I cut off my nose to save my face.
And ran for the nearest hiding place,
to vanish and bleed without a trace.
I am haunted now, searching for peace
condemned to go on, casket of unease.
the bleakness of which was unparalleled
your weakness will no doubt be up held
havoc has consumed a once fertile mind
the girls and the women have been so kind
as to bring candy and cherries to my home
turned away to remain in my steel dome
no visitors, no family shall enter
bemused to myself, mumbling insane banter
scratches all over my arms and on my amygdala
the only bites consumed are on a tart royal gala
a Scottish hymn playing over and over in my head
beside me a dead poem, remembering the once bled
my slumber interrupted by a phone call;
you can be happy now, you will not fall.
He harks the orologio ticks that count
the cosmic seconds that relentless fade
the iron peal of bells and rhythmic sound
expands the utterance his verses prayed.
A silken antimins - her blooming scent
where consecrated scriptures lay
perceived the liturgy and soul's descent
the antiphon of Corpus' Christi sway.
Denomination of the astral halls
his fervid coursing and her mystic stance
dismissal nightly voice to skyward calls
ascension of his soul's her stare askance.
Devoid 's the night that takes his life and past
she harks his voice the sovereign woods contrast.
© 06-08-2013 G. Venetopoulos
Canon = Rule
antimins ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antimins )
orologio = clock
antiphon = ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antiphon )
And I, seeing you old upon your chair
Thinking how cold and heartless you could be.
The stern and bitter visage of your stare
That sense of something lost I couldn't see.
Your anger, hardened like a winter chill
Had bruised our childhood days and left us flawed,
We who had wondered why and wonder still
The coldness of your touch that never thawed.
I who was half-afraid to reappear
To look you in the eye and stare you down,
See nothing but an old and haggard dear,
A face that hides behind a frightened frown.
And looking at your face which run with tears
See nothing but your guilt and all you fears.
Brilliance – distinction of a complex mind
Force of attraction drawn to the longhair
Holds spellbound deep into the soul may find
Inspired long hours linger in calm air.
Mischief – a debonair gentleman’s lure
Damage traced in dark abstract history
Plays wicked games in belief to mature
Tingles to one’s warmth from sheer misery.
Their wrinkled fusion bewilders the will
Fool notion deceives the bathing beauty
Though pleasure is craved such as a sweet pill
Perhaps parallel taste appears moony.
Claimed thought of justice being ideal
Still, the devil works as its best rival.
This feeling surrounded by eloquence
Gives delight in the hope for a phoenix
Its blood from stone hungers to flow presence
Fed by debauchery for a lush fix.
Amusement strikes the concealed sensation
Engrossed in own world; leaving others out
Being engaged to toxic relation
Considers the benefit of the doubt.
Bright haze from white lightning on the table
Sugar cubes spread in the strawberry field
Yellow shine in blue heavens is stable
Every puff of wisdom causes to yield.
The devil creeps in with false mastery
Justice is controlled by rare flattery.
Jadedness – an immortal tolerance
Defense for letting go of black balloons
Farewell to judgment and dull acceptance
Eases the torture of sorrowful tunes.
Midnight talks greet goodnight to bad mornings
May the ego erupts; to care is more
Trauma from the misunderstood warnings
Fades to passion of which the two adore.
Raw concern reminds of the consequence
Stubborn eagerness decays such comfort
As long as the charm kills beyond nonsense
Chances with the fellow will not fall short.
Tarot cards foresee a future to fill
Mine showed symbols of justice and devil.
The synthesizers sell at the bazaar
like shiny colored marbles, roll their eyes
condemned dead hounds compose their bets bizarre
- their innate wrongness' double deuce of dice.
Submit your faith before the roll of deuce
the Purgatory clown's enchantment girds
behind the shades immodestly will sluice
with detrimental and distracting words.
Become a client at the slaughterhouse
where cravens cackle poison dripping drops
the monster sucks the others' life to douse
inside malevolence - his belly flops.
The clown promotes false hopes at the bazaar
- distuned philosophy and hooks bizarre.
© G. V. 07-09-2013
(a sonnet against betting and gambling)
THE WEDDING OF MONSIEUR L'VAMPYRE
I make you mine tonight, to have and hold,
to lie forever in this love I feel,
I bring an end to ever growing old,
and close your eyes, to all that is not real.
I give you love, that others never know!
The joy of life found only in its' end!
And dressed in love, we go, as we must go,
into the dark! The night! The only friend!
I give you death! Then take you ev'rywhere!
To know all things; and answer to no-one!
To have it all! To do as you would dare!
within the dark, where life has surely gone!
I make you mine! I sink my teeth into
your waiting flesh, and drink the love of you!
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
Howling moon shining bright in the clearing
Torch marked quarters cast a circle searing
Sinning sirens ringing the barrier
Seven brides of phantoms shall carry her
Choking incense, black clouds shroud the altar
Thunderous words shake! the pillars falter
Grinding dry herbs for these enchanting spells
Blessing all saints, while damning them to hells
Gloves marred with white chalk and cigarette burns
With a wave of the staff, the cauldron churns
Ashes to ashes to diamond crust
Body revives from the smoldering dust
Bloodcurdling shriek, succumbed like the others
Again failed resurrecting their mothers
In these deep woods, poetry brews rich dark
Like dark coffee, acidic on tongue_ cheek
I could say deep dark remarks on tales embark
Write poem, for you have put me in a pique
From the deep dark forest draw ravens black
Let them feed upon your brain's carrion
For it is dead, vile, let them eat your flack
Your cadaver brain is barbarian
Refined gracious lady keeps loving
Her spirit turns blind eye to all faults
Nearly all faults_learning to be accepting
Even when bombarded with rash insults
These dark, dark woods forgive your wrong thinking
Though in heart it's impact still affecting
COLD NIGHTS IN PARIS ( Monsieur L'vampyre)
There's never been another dark on earth
quite like the dark of Paris under snow,
where love, it comes and goes, for what it's worth,
and no demands are made, when time to go.
Where lovers slip into the hiding night,
oblivious to cold or freezing rain,
anticipating love, that surely might
warm up their lives for just a night, again.
And love's a little warmer, from the cold;
it makes two hearts to join and keep a beat;
and warms the lives of both the young and old,
who find their love with-in their body heat.
Though easy comes the love--they hold it dear,
without it cold is something they would fear.
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
Oh! Solitariness you are the best pal ever
You accompany me in the recluse’s moment
And cover my secret realm with a divine pleasant
Sweetly you drive me to think much deeper.
All of a sudden, while I love to stay alone;
You advent to me and embrace me tight
Through you I find a world of delight
With you silently my life is going on.
When the gracious bliss of sweet solitude vibrate me,
I enjoy while in my balcony I sit lonely
I feel a heaven potency to discover myself newly
And my heart fills with pleasure and glee.
It’s an amazing nectar of solitude
Which mysterious touch makes me screwed.
Watching the night sky and thinking of you,
Hoping for dawn, why won't you let me be?
Breathing the morning air, hopes now anew,
I am waiting for you to come set me free.
I cannot see stars but I can still love,
It's now dark because I've lost you from sight.
A sigh leaves my mouth, I see you above,
And you end the dark with new burning light.
The sunrise paints clouds with a happy gold,
And now you are here, I know love is real.
My prince has arrived, so valiant and bold,
Now we know none will ever my heart steal.
And never again will I for you miss,
For my dreams are sealed with one loving kiss.
There once upon a time were those dark days
Of haunted clouds above my heavens head
That made my life and path a morbid maze
And turned my hopes and dreams to molded bread
The sun appeared to me a heartless moon
Whose oppressive shadows I would embark
Swimming with stress and fear for fruit at noon
And I myself disappeared into dark
I walked through woods of glass with naked feet
I've slept with wolves whose eyes were wide awake
There were a thousand days I cried defeat
Yet of those thousand days I would not break
With brightness ever round me I recite:
After the dark I'm blessed to walk with light
Me against Myself
The world was dark I could not see the day
So dark my world I could not see the day
Again I fell upon my knees to pray.
The voices whispered you must look within
Echoes of time replied you must look within
I felt my heart and mind begin to spin.
And in the darkness shone a brighter light
From the darkness came forth a sacred light
The path ahead came clearly into sight.
I learned to dance and sing the Pagan sound
Among the stones I felt the Pagan sound
As in the lunar light I had been found.
I‘m never lost where’re I dare to roam
The Pagan path always will lead me home.
(continueing the Monsieur L'Vampyre adventure)
THE DEATH OF MADAMOISELLE duPONT
Dear Stella, up the path, into the park,
deep shadows hide the trees along the Seine,
the quiet of the night accents the dark
and you can feel your breathing now and then.
The peaceful gloom, enveloped by a mist,
all black and gray and shades of morbid white,
accentuates the place your eyes have missed,
where someone waits, who's watched you every night.
This place, where gendarmes warn to be aware,
tonight is more foreboding than you've known,
and so you pause; you look; is someone there?
it's then you realize, you are alone.
The snapping of your heels you hear increase,
as if the hurry puts your mind at peace.
Engulfed, the path leads up and from the Seine,
and then you'll be out of this narrow pit,
but suddenly you feel the eyes again,
much closer than a glove too small to fit.
You struggle with your thinking, in a word,
to flee or just pretend no one is there,
and so you hum a tune you've never heard,
and place your safety in your mother's prayer.
Oh, Stella, Stella, in the spring you'll wed,
your sweet Gaston. Believe he's at your side,
and you will laugh at all this gloom and dread...
though courage might have found you, it has lied.
The shadows all are moving; you can hear
the groaning of someone who's all too near.
The quiet; crickets sounding no alarm,
but now a drizzle rain cools at your heat,
and tingles flowing down onto your arm
remind you of the friends you'll never meet;
quite suddenly, he's grabbed you from behind,
and muffles any sound you might have found,
you cannot scream, to hurt is in your mind,
but he's too quick, he's pinned you to the ground.
Who is this thing, your lover or your friend,
you might have pained...why does he want you dead?
or is this just someone who brings the end,
you've never known, with killing in his head?
You feel no teardrops, feel no blood nor fright,
there's only blinding, blinding, blinding light....
© ron Wilson aka Veebdosa the Doylestown poet
There’s an old creaky mansion before me
One with a sole light in the attic free
With a red door in the extreme entrance
One that’s filled with webs of a spider dance
Under a full moon by an empty tree
Stands a witch, owner of this house I see
With black cats to fulfill a dark wild curse
Light forms around her hands looking adverse
Then a cat forms into a handsome man
Full of evil, this being has a plan
Fog encircles the two standing around
As quick as a wink he disappears down
Her goal is partly done, her evil work
Is powerfully enhanced by this murk
With screams echoing through these halls,
Smoke begins to rise.
Retuning to these murder filled walls,
It's the past I have learnt to despise.
Lights flashing red, blue, and white.
Sitting up against the door,
We've held up one hell of a fight.
A knock on the door.
"You'll deal with my son first!"
They pulled my beaten brother by the wrist,
As they cursed,
Ignoring my bleeding mother.
Scared and traumatized,
We have survived.
The lonely woman walks through the graveyard
She feels like she’s within a crazy ward
Skeletons rise, frighten her completely
She thinks she chose her way incorrectly
Zombies come to her looking for fresh food
She fears this event is not looking good
She hears dark noises coming from the sky
Then she sees witches flying way up high
Just before the skeletons grab her neck
She screams at all the ghosts that call and beck
They converge at once to tear her apart
Just orange is what she sees at this part
Pain envelopes her as she finds her soul
It’s ripped out of her, she now sees their goal
In the depths of Winter one December night
As my thoughts slept I awoke in delight
For at the end of my bed was what I'd always dreamed
He was tall of stature, just as my hopes seemed
His outstretched hand beckoned my rise
Standing before him looking into his eyes
I could see he had passion and a warmth for the dark
When he touched me so, he left his mark
In a broken dialect, with a Latin trace
I could sense gestures of welcome as I stand in his grace
~~ ~ ~~ ~ ~~ ~ ~~ ~ ~
We sit together as his language turns to mine
Declaring me his second for now it's our time
We must summon his legions from the depths of this earth
To do this we must sacrifice to make the dark worth
He touches me again as my birth voice turns to black
A change in me I now feel, my allegiance to never lack
This devil so called to me immaculate to any man
To extinguish the light to be his master plan
As we step into the night, the earth opens like deep sores
His masses now march to spread darken spores
~~ ~ ~~ ~ ~~ ~ ~~ ~ ~
Standing together we are, whilst his legions look on
Above us ravens and crows circle, deterring the light from being strong
He raises his fist drawing black clouds from the blue
Whilst his flocks of dark angels into the distance they flew
For they are his eyes as they patrol darkening skies
To seek out the light of which we despise
This man now my master turns to his legions and declares
If it shines like a light, no one is to be spared
The hill we now stand on, glows of crimson red
For the day has come that the earth has dread
~~ ~ ~~ ~ ~~ ~ ~~ ~ ~
On chariots of fire winged serpents follow
Spewing out their flames, many villages swallowed
Silhouettes combust in momentary capture
Whilst the dark march on, in death plunder rapture
His ultimate aim is to turn day into night
Extinguish the light and turn the dark to the right
Heaven and Hell to be absorbed for the one
I am no longer second, for I am his son
Days, weeks and months, turned into decades of fear
Earth now lies spent, too arid for tears
I’m a nice person ah well aware,
But there is a bitter one in me.
Undeniable to per acrimonious face,
Each day is inculcating as I age,
If you believe then believe me,
Inside me, it is dreading me too,
A few people around me,
Their faces are always wearing smiles,
But with hearts so venomous inside,
their Malice nature clothed with lovely frame
My bitter side, I proclaim,
Is eventually their acclaimed!
Found the other virulent side of my own,
Since these mealy-mouthed ones shown!
Some thing in the ground
Her poor body found
Woke up and wanted to be
A thing in the ground
Without hardly a sound
That could crawl away to me
Out of the mound
And no longer bound
The thing is finally free
It sniffed around
Like an old bloodhound
And found its way to me.
Written in response to traveling west on a highway facing the sun setting behind dark gray clouds
Come ride into life's uncertain sunset
Where dark clouds may accumulate with dread
Sun's only peeking through mostly ordained
Giving life those moments when with wingspread
One soars in the presence of the Son's love
Feeling His voice tenderly saying come
Feast at my table of gifts tasty, Dove
Focus your eyes upon my beauty some
Ride to life's sunset whatever circumstance
It may present, hold my hand_understand
This is new ground for me_hope accrescence
In love of mankind for heading to promise land
Uncertain skies streaked with gray, sun at bay
Love can lift, sustain, ingrain us for day!
accrescence means growth, continous growth
Click on About This Poem
Sponsor: Michael Falotico
Contest:No Nams On This Love Contest
Shadows Creep, I Lost Sleep
Shadows crept into my room late at night
those dark nasty ones with razor like teeth
Defiant I soon dared to taunt and fight
slimy ones prancing down and underneath
Climbing ones scratched slowly up moving walls
fat, dark and nasty ones scattered about
Shrieking ones gave out wicked little calls
some cursed my soul with demonic shout
Last came ever patient and slashing kind
creeping in so close to my shaking bed
Searching very slow for bare toes to find
clawing bed sheets now wrapped over my head
A light blasts on from lamp on my nightstand
Strange, they vanished, I never lifted my hand!
Robert J. Lindley, 08 -22 -2014
Dark memories haunt my past.
I know such are dead and blessings are here
now to last...
An Echo from the Sea
This old ship rode the Atlantic swells like
a swan in a pond and her crew were dead,
perhaps not at the time, but they are now,
generations of sailors boarding her, using
her as a place of sanctuary on their way to
a destination unknown to them.
And one by one, overcome by life they died
and drifted on the sea of broken life- belts to
the Saragossa where mist of sorrow covers
the bleak shoreline of ruin and the ship
that rust on a reef; and the seamen were dead
perhaps not at the time, but they are now,
in my mind they are a sepia damaged photo
of forgotten moments.
In the dark of night can you hear the song
The haunting melodies the night owls sing
The melodies have gone on for so long
Can you feel the sadness that they will bring
All those that hear this twisted song with shed tears
None of us know why the owls sing this song
There is no real reason for us to fear
When it sounds all we do is march on
But there is nothing we should truly fear
In this game none of us fit any way
One day all things of the night will be clear
No matter what we continue to play
No matter how much we lose we never stop
We will never stop until we reach the top
Nine Inch Nails, Brain Pain
I stopped waiting on any earthy fruit
empty guns that sing but do not shoot
Nine inch nails driven into my brain
snails crawling in bloody, bloody rain
I stopped asking for your sweetened lies
sickness baked into little hollow pies
Cuts embraced to feel the sweetest pain
stick it in but make it so very plain
I stopped begging for more misery
from you laughing at my mercy plea
Seven inch blades twisted in to bleed
answers given to a most futile plea
I stopped begging so very damn long ago
You that lie to feed your deceitful show
02, 19, 1977
Yes last night I cried out, for every little disaster feared,
Tormenting my soul as it‘ll be there someday soon,
I have shed every tear already, of what future beholds,
Inner self craved to depart, but a coward behind the eyes didn’t let me,
Can YOU not Lord bring me up there?
So I don’t have to face what I fear,
What possibly waits to be seen …
Oh please I’m breaking every night already,
Have mercy n set me free,
They say He gives man the sorrow,
Only of what he is capable to deal,
Except You Lord, all I have is them,
So I say by myself, assert,
I can’t, just bring me up there…
I was born unto this day to love you
and though on the inside it's killing me
my eyes will stay forever crystal blue
streaming tears, it will forever be
The first thought in the morning with the sun
and the last thought at night with the pale moon
many reasons thought the day has just begun
and more reasons come at the count of noon
Running on a mad rampage through my mind
I am lost in the dark, for you i seek
I try to be harsh, but to you Im kind
I have reached my madness at it's dark peek
With madness, deeper in the dark I sank
Now I clear my mind of you, finally blank.
Torchfire and brimstone heaven then rained down her might
Inch by inch, from within, without; she ascended
Into being, breathing ; bathed in an eerie light
Humming energy, cacophony crescended
Distorted features and the body contortions
Backward motions propelling her ever forwards
Crying out the songs of her many misfortunes
Proceeding with gentle preludes, her loud forewords
Creeping on all eight limbs to her master, she stole
While he shakes with fear or denial, grave mistakes
Seven elements made her body, but not soul
Tears in his eyes, as a hardened heart crumbles, breaks
Still bodies buried, her soul sent to the abyss
Like a patchwork chimera, his homunculus
Deep Dark Day
A fatigued heart bed-rolled
Rugged ramblings on roads
A wrinkle on nucleus
One...two...three cells go old.
Twilight o'er face...grey grimace
Leda gets ravished by Swan-clad Zeus
A jouissance to readers
Again a game under duress.
Weighing loss and gain
One more hair drops...
One more bubbled tear dries
Make-believe world runs again.
Deep dark day dreams
The tower of light leans...
Serial monogamy carefree, refined and clever,
Feeds the famished heart with tenderness and delight,
Love adrift with charm and passion to endeavor,
Music plays like mist in dark and thunderous nights.
Lush romance to delicate women appeal,
My comforts pursued with no lament.
In festivals of levity my waning heart was sealed,
Perfume arose in veils as I contemplated the scent.
The dawn arose with auburn hair, a scholar she revealed,
Deep within passion and beauty, soon we vowed a pact.
Yet, others were to stagger in, the cheating unconcealed,
Love was lost as she ascends the stars, a dark and deadening fact.
The Grey morning fog hid the gun in my hand,
One shot to my chest and I'll die, bloody in the sand.
(Inspiration was Sephiroth from Final Fantasy)
The darkness inside me has been growing,
Not even the light from you can pierce its veil,
From the look on your face I can tell you have seen my dark wing,
While it pierces the skin and my faces goes pale.
My eyes turn black along with my soul,
I am no longer one of your kind,
It seems my hatred has taken toll,
I have lost control.
Shame passes through my heart,
As I realize what I have done,
I attempt to regain control over my self and it rips me apart,
I have tainted myself now forever I am blackened.
My pulse stops and the transformation is complete,
I am now forever a dark angel.
Fate's Seal Never Yields
A storm so dark and so very blue
fate delivers it's first misery clue
Earth and sky rapidly melt into an urn
soon, so very soon , comes my turn
Rain that spins so out of control
pelts down upon newly born souls
Awakening thoughts buried deep within
of the mortality of we lesser men
Short lives spent in duties often delayed
with dreams imagined but never quite made
Regret of the coming last dawn lingering around
like a lonely fish that is dark water bound
Ashes heaped upon a very wearisome head
Sleeping soundly in a very badly made bed
Robert J. Lindley 11/23/1977
Gigantic Dark Trees
Gigantic dark trees were in my stoney path
I cut them down, inviting the coming wrath
Fears rest in the shadows awaiting many turns
hope only leaps forth as spirit's fires burn
I raced into time with destination unknown
later discovering my soul had never grown
Wasting life with vigor so foolishly unsound
true happiness having never ever been found
Then light gave cause to seriously rethink
death comes quickly, often in a mere blink
Perhaps give this new journey a good try
just race eagerly forward without asking why
Faith became the victory not even then known
Defeated, far away, the enemy had rapidly flown
Robert J. Lindley, 07-22-2014
I sought more than I could ever attain
In a long, foolish quest destined to fail.
A passage to a world where storm clouds reign
And in every corner a tragic tale.
Pain's royal throne in destiny's wicked clutch,
Front row seats to a future of despair
For thinking I could ever mean that much,
A foolish hope in an endless nightmare.
Just a sad puppet on a lonely string,
Forever trapped in a sadist's dream,
Driven into darkness by love's painful sting,
Traveling fast, down a treacherous stream.
Waiting here in agony for you.
Why? It's simple. It's because I love you.
Save me from the evils of this dark place,
Protect me from the damage it can deal,
A look of panic strikes my hallowed face,
As a dark presence commands me to kneel.
I look upon his face and see great pain,
And horrors worse than any living thing,
Just when I though there was nothing to gain,
He spoke to me and asked for me to sing.
I sung a tale that brought him too his knees,
And drew a tear from his demonic eyes,
And by the end I had him saying "please,
No human respects a demon who cries."
I've faced my demons and came out on top,
Although the method may not have been this,
So when you think the time has come to stop,
Remember all the things that you would miss.
Remember little pleasures that in life
We take for granted every single day.
And remember that the blade of a knife,
Can stop the most important things to say.
In death we never win and always loose,
So beware of the choices that you choose.
Sans sight dark did conspired to spark the light
A high arc of colours did mark the sky
The fight soon then involved the moon ray white
A sigh swoon sound begot a boon to spy
But who made such request for aid with woo
In hope they’d get support to raid and rope
Could new moon rays betray with noon damp dew?
Or slope dune’s sands to blind dark gloom with scope?
Then dawn who was betwixt soon grew a thorn
To kick through dark’s conspire into a prick
Then sworn twin dusk, mirrored as kin and clone
Did quick win moon’s approve to spin a trick
When light knew dark’s engaged most grew with fright
Save bright blue moon’s eclipse which drew the fight