Guardians of the Shrouded Palace pt1
Royal secrets loom throughout the palace when whispers echo the shadows of the past.
Where once illusions were constructed on the altar, veiled truth, their rituals and elegies in lament stain the Kapala (skull cup) and Kangling (thighbone trumpet).
Those who once invoked the silent deity summon the solar Goddess to return.
Demanding that supernatural entities serve as forbidden guardians.
I am a kitsune, nine centuries bold, where whispers of thunder and secrets unfold. In the heart of the storm, I dance with the rain, my spirit entwined with the echoes of pain. Beneath ancient trees, my laughter takes flight, weaving through shadows, a flicker of light. I am guardian of realms where the thunder roars, weaving tales of legends, of forgotten shores. With each crack of lightning, my essence ignites, a tempest of wisdom in the deepening nights. I roam through the valleys, where dreams intertwine, a flicker of magic, both yours and divine. In the silence that follows, my stories will thrive, for as long as the storms are, I too shall survive.
A child of ten years
Near Albion's River Peck
Gazed up from the earth
And witnessed a hazel tree
Adorned with sparkling angels
(William Blake's mystical childhood vision while in Peckham Rye)
Dear ghost in my wall, do you hear when I call? Do you fear that we all, will disappear? Maybe no. Do you crawl, beneath my bed, while I lie down my head, and I dream of you? I'm sorry that I screamed at you. Do you come out at night? Do you play with my hair? Are you so, unaware that I know? Are you where, there are no more tomorrows? Is it anger that you fight, or is it despair? Is that why, you're still here, living in my wall? Don't be frightened, by the sight of my humanized life. I'm just so insecure, of that light shining there, at the end of that hall. Oh dear, insincere, my biggest fear, I'm talking to you because I'm, in the wall. My God, you're not dead, it was me, that instead, died where I fell, down in that hall. I'm in Hell. I feel unwell, I'm sorry for the way that you all ran away, when I was sad, and haunting y'all. But please say a prayer, because now, I am aware that I'm the ghost, you all fear, that's living, all alone, down in the wall.
she had supernatural energy
could lift a car with one hand
her amazing family synergy
was discussed throughout the land
There once a place
Filled with people from dark side
They were cold and unwilling
Some unaware life has ended
They go here and there
Or perhaps beside you
In front or at your back
Looking at you now
Going to forsaken places
May lead to a dark path
Not aware of what’ll happen
Hence will be bewitched
The morning was dark and misty
venturing out before the throng
weaving between oak and elder
the path I took was long
I stumbled on a clearing
and fell down upon my knees
it was there I started digging
through discarded wood and leaves
burrowing through the top soil
breaking deeper in the dirt
my fingers and palms wore earth stains
nails had worked to earn their worth
sensing something beneath the surface
of what was left behind
reaching in with all purpose
the hand I found was mine.
Incomprehensible
Incomprehensible is a real thing, just believe it, and your mind will create
Create and get it. That's what you want from life, in the existence of life
Life, maybe not now, the goal may be a bit far, far from your present life
Yeah, the reality always exists, only sometimes it is hidden or forbidden
Mysterious forces control you, this is your fate, yours, but not from you
You can drive yourself with the secret knowledge of the supernatural powers
This power is forbidden; only the initiated can get it. The chosen individuals
So incomprehensible is it could be accurate, and it is that in another life
Here or there?
Where?
There
Where?
Here
So it is done
when i'm penetrated randomly
by magic fire of creation
I neither burn nor scald
Stars sparkle in the black velvet sky
Lit with orange and red
Meteor appears as a shooting star
A bright streak of light
Across the heavens
The moon, a lovely crescent
A midnight gust blows overhead
The darkest ink lays before dawn
Arrives the bewitching hour
When the veil between life and death
Is at its weakest
Phantom limbs intertwine
And witches cast their spell
I wake up unsettled with a cold sweat
When supernatural activity is at its greatest
What's my name, who am I, what's my name/
My true name sounds something like Malfaeus/
Ring a bell, are you scared, you know me now/
I am the most feared in the world/
I am more feared than the Devil/
Even the Devil trembles with fear/
A fear like no fear/
Malfaeus, my name sounds something like that/
What am I, why am I the most feared in history/
My name strikes the darkest fear ever known/
I'm the one that gets them to confess/
The one that turns them into Christians/
I span the world, I'm supernatural/
I'm not human, I'm legendary,
My true name strikes the fear of all fear/
Sounds science fiction but I am real/
a numinous mist
spied by the young ones
unseen by parents
forming in the dining room
above great-great-grandma Rutherford’s claw foot oak table
supernatural magic, kept in secret compartments by the young
They make the phone ring
They look at it.
It rings
Things appear
Things disappear
As they will it
I'm going to be like that
Someday
And I'm going to learn to fly
No lard of swine
No spleen of snake
Yet a wish- impelled flying machine
My body I'll make
Alone
Into the mouth of my Beloved
I will fly
Into the air
The cloud
The face
The wind
I will fly
Baby witch.
God damned the Demons of Hell to Hell
God damned the Demons to Hell
Let us depart, Beloved
,Where their morbid howls don't swell,
In our ears, in our minds,
Coiling weaving diabolic binds.
Let us go, my Darling
To a place
All silence in the air...
No Devil, no Demon,
No Fetch, no Wanton,
Would never ever dare
To puncture our Quiet
With slanderous riot
Perverted lies,
Bone-chilling sighs...
Ghosty appearance,
Cryptic endearance,
Sad sobs and groans,
Agonized moans...
No, no!
Only silence shall be there
All sacred and quiet
A quivering friendly air
And we can talk...
Yes talk!
We can talk to our delight
And our cheery conversation
Alone may pierce the night.
I saw my name written and with its sight smitten,
reflected on the door, a little something more.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.