Tag Archives: faith

In The Light of a Red Dwarf

Afternoon, all. I’ve got a little something for you today. I really hope you enjoy. Without further ado…

In The Light of a Red Dwarf

There is a beauty in the tragedy of it all,

like diamonds shorn from rough stone

and polished,

flawless, even. 

The man did walk,

ensheathed by his dark and mottled felt cloak,

across these fields of diamonds.

No use for them now.

And so he trudged along on no path at all,

the whispers from the stones and the cracked desert beneath his feet,

carrying with him no small burden

to a destination he did not know.

There is a distant mountain,

perhaps like the one before,

shone in the glory of one perpetual and orange dusk.

He would climb it,

and then climb another,

and another yet still,

for there is no path but the one he is on

with virtue as his guide.

Revelry

Howdy, howdy. Got a new one for you folks today. Hope you like it! It’s gonna seem a little disjointed at first but it’s gotta be read slow. Let me know what you think below. Without further ado…

Revelry

Somewhere close by

in a place that used to be,

you can still hear happy whispers in the trees.

Ghosts who love to dance and play

on paths along the way,

somewhere I lost the means

to find my way back home.

Somewhere along the winding way

i missed my chance at revelry

and now I think of that first day

when everything 

was in all things around,

but now i’ve missed

my chance at revelry

and all there is abound.

Some day I hope 

to find my way back home

and hear that precious sound.

I just hope to find my way back home.

Were It Only That I Had an Axe

Good morning, everyone. New poem with a motif you may just recognize. I sincerely hope y’all enjoy. Please let me know if you like it in the comments below! Without further ado…

Were It Only That I Had an Axe

Whispers again in the wind,

back behind your ear,

around the corner,

and just out of reach.

Like the hunter in the forest,

I strive

to survive

and to thrive,

yet so lambasted as I am

by cacophonous murmurs,

I become dismayed, disarrayed…

Erstwhile duties,

now in stated dereliction,

distress one distraught mind

so taken by dalliance and drudgery

that derogation might duly develop.

And from a seed,

does a simple sprout stretch and swell

into a great tree

now casting its great shadow

across all your ancient truths.

Were it only that I had an axe,

if only to cut through the noise,

for now it feels that I

can no longer see the sky.

The Button

Back on my bullshit, fellas. Another poem comin’ right back at ya from the depths of hell itself (or wherever). Hope you like this one about… hope you have a good time figuring that out. Without further ado…

The Button

Rounded and red,

and still before me

does it lie,

mocking the eyes that set upon it,

and awaiting some foreign pressure atop it.

~

To press gingerly,

or to smash violently;

results do tend

towards the same.

~

Ill-begotten memories

in all their putrid rot

are driven from my thoughts

just as pretty little flowers

are broken in their pots.

~

A thousand little things

that drove me

now a thousand little strings

that cut me

as I fall.

~

Do I misuse the vile machine?

Do I…?

Do I call upon those eldritch powers

that allow me to forget?

To ease that final passing?

~

It is one thing to make a deal with the Devil,

but this…

There will be nothing left.

Mordax

Howdy, folks! I’ve entirely given up any pretense of there being an upload schedule. I wrote this about a month ago and it’s uh… pretty good, I think. Hope you like a little fantasy stuff to tide you over while I attempt to write literally anything else. Without further ado…

Mordax

Here then,

laid afore you

do protest the works of Oezyridus,

last of his name.

The shifting sands that cover his tomb

do show

our high esteem

and mastery of the loom.

A just Lord

in all his vambraces,

burning our villages,

and mockery to our faces

showed us things we could not afford.

Perhaps abide,

as it were

that we could not

the tanning of our hides.

Our Lord Oezyridus,

last of his name,

a title

just a sight too tame.