YELL AS MUCH AS YOU CAN!
or be subtle as a miniature moth
Just don’t be louder than a double Clan Man
Or quieter than rustling cloth
A zee voyage
No land in sight
Crew, missing.
Honey is Red,
The Lost Sky is Blue,
I haven’t lost my sanity,
How about you?
edited by Honeyaddict on 9/2/2018
Master’s bleed Red,
The Zee is not Blue,
I cannot understand,
not without a clue.
Veils, my dear,
You acted questionably
So a reckoning won’t be
Postponed indefinitely.
Hoarding’s a crime
To Judgments, inexcusable
But Stone’s love for jewels
For us is amusable.
To Captain the zee!
Discover anew!
But just remember…
It won’t forgive you.
edited by Iona Dre’emt on 9/6/2018
All over London one can find mirrors of glass
From white to black
Bound in metal, bone or brass
But be careful in your gaze, for they can look back…
To shed their rags of flesh and silk, the fledgling hearts embrace.
A hope did stir in restlessness beneath the carapace.
Denied by Time and men of ilk, the spirit did protest.
Their passions burst in harsh distress to cheat immortal rest.
Angelic wraiths of fragile ice, a sin they dared to bear,
To mock the rule of Styx’s shore, a dream they yearned to share.
Entwined by love, imbued in vice, they soar to lands of late.
Eternal souls to live once more beyond the Law of Fate.
Ode to a Madman
Lovers cut by serpent’s trim,
Kings undone by splintered hearts.
Cracked and dulled, these diamonds dim,
Marred in scars of lawless arts.
Damn the prowling keeper’s path.
Dash the is-not’s slumbering lies.
None yet know the year’s cold wrath.
None yet see a month’s old eyes.
Hail, the dwindling light’s cruel glow,
Failed by dreams beyond the glass.
Shed no tears, let no well flow
For when Night shall come to pass.
Sable suns, unsheathe thy shade.
Writhing, reeving stars above.
Memories, wrack this grief in spade.
Drown the heavens in my love.
Oh, I love it! So beautiful and touching.
Do you remember that morning in Aberdeen?
When we held hands in heather and sprawled in the sun
And did not know, then, anything of its judgment?
When mirrors showed us our own faces,
and the best wine of our lives still tasted of grapes?