Tired from the day, she’s still and cold.
Tired from the blood she’s carried.
Long life past, now she’s old.
Now far from demons she’s long buried.
No regrets, her own grown strong,
They’ll find a new grave to carry
Her to where she can rest from demons wake,
From the words of death she spake,
From what she carried for so long,
So her own to demons pacts
Would not be sold.
Or so I’m told.
She takes this secret to her grave.
The children know of what she gave,
But not of sacrifices made.
Posted in Life and death
Tagged blood, buried, chidren, demon, grave, life, lion, lioness, poetry, rest, sacrifice, sleep, tired, wake
In the wake of this dark ship,
It passing by with my hopes and dreams,
Unclearly seen through a miasmic
Haze left by it, I try to clear my eyes and breathe.
Trapped in this slough, but only halfway.
Light can be seen,
Such as at the end of day.
A light that gives some hope much-needed.
Though quickly it’s fading,
Time remains enough that it’s seeded.
And within my brain what remains of reason,
Encourages some strength to pass this season.
Posted in Rise Above
Tagged brain, dark, fade, haze, hope, light, poetry, reason, season, ship, wake
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.
When there is naught left in this world but hate,
And nothing is left but eternal dark,
When Light and righteousness are now sedate,
Deny me my lease and let me depart.
I’d rather leave than remain among fools
Who believe darkness is too much to fight.
Apart from these ones I can see the tools,
And perhaps with those I can make a light.
Though my flame be small and burn up quickly,
I’ll light it, with faith it is sufficient.
May I leave this world a bit less sickly,
With love and beauty I leave behind it.
The beauty of this flame I leave in wake,
Will be enough I hope to more lights make.