Tag Archives: religion

Die Wilde Jagd

Good morning, everyone! I have been in something of a rut as of late. This has reduced my writing output… but not killed it. Today, I have for you a piece inspired by a fairly popular part of germanic/european culture: The Wild Hunt. Let me know if you dig it in the comments below. Also let me know if you’d have any interest in other mediums for my writing. Youtube channel? Anyway, without further ado…

The Wild Hunt (Die Wilde Jagd)

And so the riders tread their way across the sky,

sheathed in dreaded blackness.

At their head does bray one ghastly steed

that now you’ve seen

is forced to feed.

It strikes a chord

and does pursue

in one cascading cavalcade.

There is no flight

from the absence of light.

Hounds bark and thrash

against their horrid masters

but sounds do not they make,

lest you’ll join them faster.

Ghouls and ghosts do fill their ranks

silenced by swords and bombs and tanks.

Hoofbeats pound

and horns do sound

as sailors crash and drown.

This time it is you they’ve come to see,

so lost are you in that ancient sea.

You’ll join them now

if just to be.

Die Wilde Jagd ist wieder gekommen,

und sie musst fressen.

Entombed

Good afternoon, everybody! I’ve got another little piece today. Something sadder than the last one. Without further ado, please enjoy.

Entombed

The writing, my dear.

Scrawled there on the wall;

can you see it?

Those old runes…

What could they mean, my darling?

Chicken-scratch, sure.

But what if?

What if there is something to them?

What if it’s about us?

What if it means something?

All of it.

Can you read it?

Interpret for me the symbols of antiquity?

You always were smarter than me.

I am confused.

Something you’re all too familiar with.

It made me angry before.

Now?

A hollow sadness.

Memories and dreams reverberate through old and decrepit halls.

Could you…

Could you help me remember?

What am I doing here?

Where was I going?

Who are you?

Who…

Who am I?

It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Psychosis

Good morning, everyone! I’ve got a post today that I think you’ll be quite fond of. Perhaps you’ll gain some insight, perhaps you’ll gain some enjoyment. Whatever the case, I think you’ll be intrigued. Without further ado… Please read responsibly.

Company

Can you hear?

The sounding of the drum?

The beat,

the chorus?

Sitting there between the shadows,

kicking my feet at the edge of the world.

All alone now

in the quiet dark.

The contrast has never before felt quite so stark.

Those drums again,

there,

in the distance.

Can you hear them?

Hoofbeats that draw ever closer.

I think He’ll be coming soon.

No matter,

I needed the company.

Rhythmic tones beat in tune with every thump and thud

inside this broken God.

The motor’s out.

I’ll scream and shout.

No matter,

I needed the company.

The Banks of The River Lethe

Good afternoon, everyone. You have died. You stand here, like those heroes of old, on the banks of that sacred river Lethe. Your ascent to the heavenly realms of Paradiso now secured, you step carefully into the dark and starkly opaque water. Your sins, desires and memories washed away in sacred bliss. As a child again, you are innocent, no longer condemned, but redeemed. Welcome to the rest of forever. Without further ado…

Settling Debts

Haunting orbs

drift across the water.

They come towards me,

stealing away my light.

I am fading.

I flash and flicker;

I am the torch over which your fingers

quickly pass.

The specters

take my flame.

They wear it

and make themselves whole.

I am as the hearth

in that certain dearth

that follows November.

Swept away,

is all my heat.

Through the mist

is seen defeat.

I know why they’ve come:

The debt of one infernal sum.

I cannot pay,

I’m ashamed to say.

This will make their day.

Flitting on Forgotten Wings

Good morning, everyone! I have for you today a piece which I have freshly written, so freshly, in fact, that it still smells of warm ink and the sweat of my hands. Like warm bread, I would hope that you enjoy what I’ve managed to bake up for you today. Without further ado…

Perception of the Mass

To die upon your crossed arms,

a fall from grace so fed by charms

would be so sweet and free from harms.

It would not be

that Pontius Pilate

determines my fate,

for such a thing

now seems so trite.

Willful masters know their place,

looking in the mirror

and finding their face.

Do you not harm,

but simply farm

that sorrow which you carefully guard.

In the eyes of a dog

is reflected one ghastly visage

of one most malevolent demagogue.

Make your choice,

knowing all the while

that what you do

matters to you.