Monthly Archives: December 2015

In the Wake of the Profane

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In the wake of the profane,
Clouds were darkened, skies were grey.
The price she paid, the cost was pain.
When time wasted the day away.
Lost minutes and hours, lost moments,
They are the waters of this sea, and
Vast is this ocean oblivion blows in.
Beneath these waves, cast so much she,
Can hardly remember anything.
Having followed the profane,
Now left bits and scraps not sane.
One of her many rewards: regret.
The reason why, not remembering,
She succeeded to forget.

Pressing Onward Into the Future

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She’s wept for lost days,
Those left behind and in between,
Weren’t always what they seemed.
And everything within this dream,
And living memory,
Those she sought not; unworthy deemed.
The years behind so far away
Though closer still than she remembers.
The faces missed,
The lips she kissed,
In that cold November.
Grief in her heart,
Now departs.
For thoughts of those closer.
Out of the past.
Grasping what lasts,
Pressing onward into the future.

A Year Passed

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Rain in December.
Pain in November.
Grief in October.
Relief in September.
Fire in August.
Tired in July.
As such in June.
Much the same in May.
I knew once in April,
All through into March.
Contrary to February,
We conspired in January.

Request of the Sea

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Darkened sea
Hear my plea,
Allow me safe passage ‘ore thee.
I remember once that we
Were friends
A reason that should change,
I cannot see.
The wind, rain, and waves.
On and on for days.
I have said, hear me say,
That friends we should stay,
Let it not end this way.
A changed mind,
I find.
I miss the days that you were kind.
Tonight I am blind.
I will not see the wave
That sends me to my kind.
Dead man sailing.
At least I know they’ll miss me;
Those I leave behind.

Requiem for a Day too Long

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Within the wreckage
So much pain.
Not all lost,
But not much gained.
This failing vessel,
Blind to the sea,
I never know
What’s awaiting me.
All is drained,
The fuel gone.
Now for my broken soul
And it’s sad song.
A requiem for a day too long.

Angel of Undoing

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These arms holding time,
Holding time against the tide.
Against the tide of entropy.
This and all we cannot see,
Many are the hands that take
Numberless for heavens sake.
Standing in the ruined place,
With a blind, all seeing face.
Holding time, letting go,
A small bit everyday so,
The world around to decay goes.
In all age and ageless flows.
The angel of undoing,
The lord of entopy.
Sage of death;
Allowance of lifes surging breath.

Special thanks to Peter Mohrbacher for giving permission to use his inspiring artwork.
View the original and other works here:
http://www.angelarium.net/news/2015/9/22/armaros-angel-of-undoing