When all I am is dust,
Deny not that which I was.
Hold me in thy mind's eye,
Or deep in the farthest recesses
Of thy brain, with the
Forget-me-nots of childhood,
Or even in the chasms
Of long-ago memories.
When all I am is dust,
Deny not that which I was.
Adieu, Adieu, Adieu. Remember me.
Come ye shadows
And blanket me in my slumber.
Now hold me tight,
Throughout the night,
While creatures, in darkness, lumber.
Come ye shadows.
Nurture ye Earth.
Seek out rest and tranquility.
Hold yourself high
Under the sky
Unburdened by humility.
Nurture ye Earth.
Dream ye child.
Let you mind run free forever.
And in the morn
You are reborn.
Forget this childhood never.
Dream ye child.
Transform ye sky
With winds of change, call the seasons.
From Spring's new sun,
Till Winter's done,
Emboldened for unknown reasons.
Transform ye sky.
Live ye child.
Give you not in to hate and fear.
Live for each day,
Live for this way.
For evil lost, shed not a tear.
Live ye child.
Burn ye flame.
Encircle us and dance in lust.
But by the dawn
You must be gone
Though be it neither fair nor just.
Burn ye flame.
Fall ye child.
For the road is filled with danger.
Here you will trip,
There you will slip,
And still your life will grow stranger.
Fall ye child.
Cry ye rivers.
Weep for a thousand deaths this eve.
Stay waters deep,
And never sleep,
Nor sobbing trails take no leave.
Cry ye rivers.
Die ye child.
And hear your heart's one final beat.
Rivers still run
And race the sun,
And never again shall they meet.
Die ye child.
Pretty one, pretty one,
Why do you cry?
Those teardrops that mirror
The rain from the sky?
Pretty one, little one,
Why do you pray?
Alone in the dark
At the end of each day?
Pretty one, silent one,
What do you seek?
When you stand at the window
looking so weak?
Pretty one, desperate one,
Why so much pain?
When you look for the rainbow
But see only the rain?
Pretty one, lonely one,
So very thin.
Have you accepted this sadness
Both outside and in?
Pretty one, pretty one,
Why say goodbye?
There's so much to live for,
But you only cry.
All souls must bend, bow down,
While the wind's countless sighs
Rush forth, unimpeded and incessant.
When iridescent sunlight streaks down
In confused, deranged beams
Scattered over hill and meadow
By imposing clouds,
And night rises before its time,
But sweet Lady Moon
Hides her face still.
Then is its time,
The ancient beast,
As old as the world,
As young as a spring breeze.
Unprovoked and furious,
Threatening mortality with its
Deafening cries.
Tightening in my chest,
My words coil and crowd about one another.
So many words.
They cannot escape from the lungs.
They're dying now, gasping and
Dying before they ever see the light of day.
My suffocating words.
Coiled and thrashing now,
Seeking air
In an airless space.
Death spasms. The choking words, now mute,
Deep in the vacuum,
For how can they breathe when
You're standing on my neck?
Silent silk
And rusted dreams
Reach out and break the pedestal.
And trembling among
The rubbled ruins
A hoarse note wails in mourning.
It cries, it cries, it cries,
To the silent silk and
The creaking, rusted dreams
That surround it. That note,
Once strong, vibrant,
Now feebly frail,
A mere shadow of former glory.
That note which has sung itself out countless times,
And still returned to sing again,
Flails miserably
Among the rubble and the rust and the silent silk,
Seeking respite from the harsh,
Unrelenting world.
It dances, though stiffly, for the rusted dreams,
Wavering in the encroaching darkness,
Recalling them one by one with fondness and love.
Crawling in the dust and the tumbled-down stones of
The once majestic platform,
It sings for the silent silk,
Calling out,
Offering itself up to the promised pleasure.
The silk, which flitters along
On its own private breeze,
Is a welcome retreat from
The cold, cold ruins of shattered beauty.
The note itself becomes a part of
That silent silk
Where neither light, nor sound dare intrude,
And that muted note
Knows peace at last.
Should all that is revert to dust
And vanish with the wind,
I think I would not worry much
For that's just how things will end.
No mindless decimation
Of peoples and their lands.
No nuclear devastation
To stain our soiled hands.
No gunshots ringing in the night.
No rockets cut the sky.
No military anarchy
To kill us by and by.
A tiny movement of the Fates,
A simple silence heard.
And then humanity is gone
Without a startled word.
Everyone will know it
When our end arrives.
Some will die with dignity,
Some fight to stay alive.
And in ensuing chaos,
A world is reborn.
Once more will the Earth begin
With no one left to mourn.
The future generations,
Our presence, and our past,
Indiscernibly dispersed
Throughout a silence vast.
Looking out across the barren fields
Of far too early Spring not yet sprung,
Gazing into the bleakness of the
Early-morning fog hanging grey
Over the equally dismal land,
I wonder where I am going.
Onward, onward past bridge and tree
Following empty highways,
The lulling motion of my transport
Moving me toward the restless sleep
Of unwarrented anticipation.
My eyes still glazed with the
Morning's laziness, and the stiffness of body
That remains of early rising,
Impede my drowsy senses
As surpressed yawns resurface,
And the road winds on
Stretching toward the slowly rising sun.
The sole point of cheer in the gloom,
Banishing the shadows and the haze,
The day dawns brightly,
And my journey nears its beginning.
Come to me, your body bathed in golden light
Atop a lordly stallion
Like a royal knight in triumphant return.
Come to me on mud covered feet
Ragged and tired like a poor farmer
Famine-stricken and fatigued.
Come to me by carriage
Drawn by a team of white horses,
Their manes fluttering on the wind.
Come to me on bloodied knees,
A pauper, begging a crust of bread
Hands outstretched in pleading prayer.
Come to me as the hero,
Celebrated for brave deeds and courageous victory,
Sword in hand, prepared for battle.
Come to me as a thief in the night,
Stalking the shadowed courtyards
To steal my heart.
Come to me in the skin and feathers of a jaybird,
Gliding on the breezes,
A tiny master of the sky.
Come to me as sunlight
Shinging brightly on my face
In the late afternoons of summer.
Come to me as anything in creation
No matter how stately or insignificant.
Come to me in any form,
In any way you choose,
But please, come.
On silver rays of starlight,
She descends with agile grace,
The beauty of the jeweled sea
Reflected in her face.
Called to Earth by tempest winds,
Angry in the east,
She sings the sweetest song she knows
To soothe the wild beast.
Her song flows like the water
Lapping at her feet.
She stands with regal dignity
Where sand and whitecaps meet.
The notes her voice produces then
Are tangible and warm,
And pure enough to reach the sky
And quell the rising storm.
As angry wind turns to a breeze,
And waves calm at the shore,
The peace of midnight on the beach
Can be assured once more.
And thus the Lady does ascend
The light from star to land,
Leaving nothing else behind,
Save footprints in the sand.
Eyes as black as ravens' wings,
Lifelessly staring, ever staring.
Her footsteps sound on empty streets.
Cloaked in midnight finery,
Her shroud is a sharp contrast to albino skin.
Born of an icy hellfire
And encompassed by the repellent aura
Of lingering death,
She listens for the slowing heartbeat,
The gasping breath,
Her ever-faithful guides
To those souls who would soon be hers.
Her footsteps echo in the shadows
Of every deserted alley.
Rats and strays shrink away,
Anything to escape
The unwavering stare of those unnatural eyes
That, despite their deathlike gaze, follow unabated.
She claims her prize, (for the fear in his eyes
Seals his fate)
And the Dark Lady vanishes
Into the creeping mist of the pre-dawn.
The quiet sunlight of the afternoon
Dissolves the lingering cobwebs in my mind,
And fantasy and reality mingle
In so sublime a way that
I can reach out and touch them
Both at once.
They surround me,
Encircling my body with
Their sparkling, jeweled tails,
Leaving behind shimmering trails of light
In the air,
And twirling in the pure ecstasy of their formless dance.
I dance with them,
Abandoning thought
For the sensation of utter freedom.
What are you
Enemy mine?
Enticing,
Not unlike the Siren's call,
Overflowing with temptation.
Though cleverly disguised,
Shadowed in flawless beauty, and
Outwardly kind, I question.
What are you
Enemy mine?
Endowed with the face of
An angel, a mask that hides the
Nightmare within.
Demon-child, are you still
Fitfully seeking
Revenge upon an
Injured soul
Gathering its strength?
Go then,
Inflict your torment upon that soul.
Neither Hell, nor thine own sun-shadowed face
Has true power, for only
Urgent words with no meaning
Garner respect in your
Eternity.
Waking melodies arise.
Velvet tones reach to the skies.
Calling to the new light.
Calling as the day dawns bright.
Sunlight floods the night-cooled land.
A new beginning is at hand.
Never will the voices falter,
Reaching out across the earth.
Never will the voices falter,
Joyful of the new day's birth.
Rising master of the sky,
Climbing as the notes grow high,
In the heaven's vast blue,
None can match your golden hue.
Shining down on land and sea,
Touching every rock and tree.
Never will the voices falter,
Soulful songs both new and old.
Never will the voices falter,
Singing as the day grows bold.
Golden orb at peak of day,
Melting shadows now away.
Voices meld with sunlight,
Making all that lives seem right.
Flowing from each living throat
Comes the very sweetest note.
Never will the voices falter,
Calling to the sky so blue.
Never will the voices falter,
Ever is the chorus true.
Voices sing a lullaby,
Echoed in the orange-streaked sky.
Settling near soft sleep,
From sky above to oceans deep.
Beauty of the fading rays
Reflected in a thousand ways.
Never will the voices falter,
Singing 'til the day is done.
Never will the voices falter,
Singing with the setting sun.
Now has come the time of rest.
Voices silent in the west.
Silver sphere ascending.
Grateful that the day is ending.
Softer than a baby's hand,
Moonlight bathes the sleeping land.
Never will the voices falter,
Lady Moon her vigil keeps.
Never will the voices falter,
Even while the voices sleep.
Come, you moonlight stalkers.
Dance this night
Amidst the curling wisps
Of smoke and the tongues of fire.
Weave yourselves
Into the fabric of twilight
And clothe me
In robes of flame and shadow.
Come, you midnight servants.
Adorn me with all the splendor
Of the stars,
And of the moon,
And of the dark obsidian
Of the night sky
Set in silver.
Come, oh come, to this gathering
Of nocturnal creatures,
For this is our time.
We, the inhabitants of forest glades
And darkened corners.
We, who are only seen when the sun is gone.
Oh, sing out,
And with that melodious gift
Draw out those
Who would condemn.
Those relics of the past
Who have not found
The source of the song.
Those who would wish to silence it,
Never understanding that it cannot be silent.
Those who hear the voice,
But cannot recognize their own voice within it.
Draw them out
From their secert meetings,
Their stubborn contempt.
Sing out,
And as the song rises
In the heat of day
And in the cool shadows of night,
Echoing in the deepest valleys
And from the highest peaks
Of the human soul,
Show them that it is their song,
It is my song,
And it is your song.
Teach them to sing,
For it is a song that all must learn.
Nowhere to run,
So trapped,
So isolated, so cold.
So alone.
So I am,
So I shall remain.
There is no escape
From this hellish nightmare,
This endless agony.
Imprisoned for an eternity
In a blackness so thick
It feels suffocating.
Each breath of the putrid air
Burns my lungs,
And yet I feel nothing but
My growing madness.
I feel the icy fingers of death
Grip my throat,
It's nails clawing over
My clammy skin.
I feel the blood
Drip down my chest
And into the vast darkness,
And I see the thin line I walk
Between madness and oblivion.
I cry out,
But there is no one to hear me.
I shriek louder,
Crying out with the pain of a tortured soul,
But I am alone.
I live, I die, I live again.
With each second, year, millennium,
And with each existence
Comes unspeakable torment.
Time passes slowly, quickly, forward backward,
But time is meaningless
And may as well not exist.
My madness grows with
Each new torture inflicted upon
My decaying mind.
So it shall be for always.
Sometimes I think I want
To know it all
Even if it means losing, forever,
The very force that sustains me.
Even if it means
Never returning to life on Earth.
Sometimes I think it would be worth it,
Even if it means leaving this world for
Another, and
Going on, day by day, in
An afterlife, never to be allowed return.
Cursed is the place where
His tears touched the ground.
Rain falls heavily
In painful drops,
Splattering on the
Tired man's head, the
Only distraction from the
Putrid air that surrounds him.
Heroes are scarce on this
Eternal journey.
Reality is only a
Long-forgotten experience.
As he presses onward,
Memories disappear one by one,
Burned away from his
Earthly mind.
Remembering becomes
Tiresome, and he slips away.
Misty darkness
Blankets the four.
Each shrouded in black,
Each a corner
Of the same circle.
The Eastern Air,
The Southern Fire,
The Western Sea,
The Northern Earth.
Each, in their elements,
Combine to make one spirit.
Reality is obliterated
As they step between worlds.
The ancient rite has begun.
The sacred sword rises before them,
Emanating its brilliant glow
In the gloomy nothingness.
Empowering the central alter,
Strengthening the charms and tools resting there.
The four move together,
Slowly at first,
Gaining speed with each revolution of the alter.
Never breaking the circle,
Chanting in an ancient and unknown tongue.
Invoking the spirits
That chose them
As their ancestors did before them.
Slaves to their craft,
Their craft is their slave.
Controlling and controlled.
The circle slows and stops.
The sword sinks down,
ItUs essence fading
And faltering.
The spell is cast,
And the four return.
Says the West,
"The circle is now open,
But will never be broken."
The four corners disintegrate
Into the night
Chanting the forgotten words
That only They and the Old Ones
Can comprehend.
Peace was lost.
The world, in chaos,
After so many centuries
Of war and destruction.
The last eagle looked down
From atop a barren, leafless tree
And watched as the creatures of the Earth
Destroyed one another.
He thought of the past,
And the beauty of what once was.
He thought of the present,
And the horrors he saw.
He thought of the future,
And what he could do to save it.
With iridescent wings,
He parted the air,
So filled with smoke and flame
That he could hardly see,
And flew to the meeting place
Of land and water,
And asked the last dolphin
What he could do.
The dolphin bid the eagle follow,
And across the great ocean,
That once was blue,
Now grey from the smoke of war fires
That settled on its once clear waters.
The dolphin leapt across
The surface of his world,
While the eagle kept pace in the sky.
An island appeared on the horizon,
Dark, emanating evil, on the dismal sea.
The fearful dolphin would go no farther,
But told the eagle of the evil in that place,
Where putrid smoke
Surrounded the blackest heart
And the inhuman embodiment
Of all that was wicked
Toyed with the creatures of the Earth
Making them hate, kill.
The last eagle flew
Into the sky and plucked
A bolt of lightning from the clouds,
And carried it to the dwelling of the beast
That had caused so much agony
To the creatures of the Earth.
There he saw,
In its frightening form,
The earthly body of that hated demon.
Teeth like the blades of warriors,
Mangy fur from head to toe,
Claws that could tear
The puny eagle to sheds
With a single swipe,
Eyes that glowed red
With the blood of it's victims.
The last eagle flew at the beast,
Plunging the lightning bolt
Deep into its wicked heart.
A deafening scream,
A cry of agony, filled the air,
And the skies cleared and
Became blue again,
The seas sparkled in the long absent sunlight,
The flowers bloomed once more,
And the creatures of the Earth
Learned to live in peace
As the had done so long ago.
Let the rage
and sorrow flow
as midnight turns to morn.
At dusk they rise
to live their lives
As they see fit to do.
And none did see
for in their thoughts
lurked half of what they feared.
Among the trees
and light of stars
they dwelt in tender night.
A dance, a dance, a moonlight dance!
The shadows writh and turn.
A dance, a dance, a silent dance
as nighttime fires burn.
It's all a blur to her,
She who has never known
One single direction, one single purpose,
One single cause,
But rather let her mind and talents
Wander where they would.
The vague, undefined cloud of unknown truths
That lies in her path,
An abstract, drawing ever-nearer,
Undisclosed secrets lingering
In its misty depths.
Dancing shapes in the cloud
Mistaken for memories,
Beckoning, calling, entreating her
To join them,
The trail she walks disintigrating
Into those unfathomable depths,
Hidden from her veiw,
And so so choses a direction at random,
Following blindly,
Running, walking, skipping,
Into unseen peril,
Into the sething anger,
The untold joy,
Into the unbridled passion,
The entrapping madness,
The boundless love,
That lurks somewhere in the mist.
Look to like,
And you will learn
What has made the man
Who stands before you
And bares his soul
In hopes you'll understand.
Clear you mind
Of everything
You thought you knew was true.
Accept the possibility
This soul
Has offered you.
This chill morning
I lay awake in bed,
swathed in blankets,
shutting out any light
that might peek through the clouds
and into my widnow.
My love, my love, my life...
He has come,
holding me,
kissing me...
his passion stemming from
something far greater than
mere affection.
He is about to tell me
he loves me...
But before he can form the works...
The wail...
the unrelenting wail of
the dreamer's greatest enemy
startles me, and he is gone.
Oh for one more moment
Of that sweet waking dream...
Time I seek,
My dove, my dove.
I dream to weep,
I kiss my sleep.
My heart is meek,
Oh love, my love.
And I do hide,
And I too 'bide.
So kiss me once,
Kiss me thrice,
And kill my heart again.
If a Lion could speak his love
when the moon has risen and
the girl lay helpless,
his claws dangerously resting
on her chest...
If a Lion could speak his love
to her, after the chase
when all the world is bathed
in darkness...
If a Lion could speak his love
os a simple lass
no more worthy of his noble heart than
any other prey...
If a Lion could speak his love
to her, and and give her the chance
to love him in return
with all her heart...
If a Lion could speak his love
and she did not answer,
would he turn away and never look back,
or would he tear her asunder?
