Between the witching hour and saffron dawn,
When guileless hearts are peacefully asleep,
An evil prowls a wolf amidst the sheep,
With fangs as bloody daggers swithly drawn;
And erelong the warmth of blood shall spawn,
A frenzy thus unloosed from hellish keep,
While all the angels’ watch and soothly weep,
As souls are bled, until ungodly gone.
Awake I prithee, yon morrow blushes night;
While sun forestalls evil in its grave,
Prepare a holy arsenal to fight;
And double-glaze thine eyes with marbled sight;
Your dead, undead shall rise a vampires’ slave,
Then woe to hearts unsheathed eftsoons twilight.
Categories:
eftsoons, imaginationevil,
Form: Sonnet
I see the fields before me being turned from green to brown
And the trees which lie with each leaf with a frown,
'What sin have we committed' as if they speak
Along with the left ones standing like thin sticks.
Like deep cuts- the deep reels as if they seem -
Like slicing off from a cake it's cream.
In heaps they lie resembling the slaughter
And it hath tirned wry the earth's laughter.
What's the colour of earth,it doth appear from moon,
Whatever it be its into change eftsoons,
Bellows are riding above the land -
Without the greenness the land is nothing but sand.
With the wind thee wrap us in thy lap;Oh!Nature massive -
I regret on part of those who make the process passive.
Categories:
eftsoons, forgiveness, life, nature, philosophy,
Form: Sonnet