Sprinting across the courtyard, dodging the restless reign of arrows,
I accumulate the foulest of mud on my boots.
I'm searching, but this beautiful place is foreign to me;
I see green and grey all around me, and above me.
Another day, another instance, I would cherish this.
I know not where I am or where I am going,
But I know who I am looking for.
I must find her;
I barrel on.
My legs betray me; I stagger, pulling shrapnel from my armour,
Slowing, and, perhaps, losing.
The castle is within my reach, so I grab for it.
I have the strength of a child, but the will of one, too.
The ascend is plodding, and grueling,
But there is nowhere else she may be;
This is our sole opportunity.
I am desperate,
And we have but limited time.
I climb higher,
Ignoring the pursuit, the fighting, the screaming,
Ignoring the physical pain;
There are worse trials than this.
As I climb those castle walls,
I see her.
She stares back at me.
Up in the highest room,
One vast, lone space,
She stands, wide-eyed,
And her eyes are heavy with unshed tears.
She is I,
And I know not how to help her.
#castles #reflection #helplessness #green
A goat's head effigy hangs in the shadows;
Hell has been purged, and the released have bred.
I hope that there is room in the Underworld for the Devils born on Earth.
They hate and rape and kill,
And they do it for fun.
They are ravenous, relentless creatures, and not a soul is left unstained.
If this is all in God's plan,
I ask for Reason.
The month of monsters begins today,
But I already want it to end,
And, these monsters,
I wish I weren't one of them.
Your tie matches the color of destruction.
You've got not only blood on your collar, but ash and soot.
Tears line your cheeks, but the same cannot be said for those who once answered to you.
Your story will be told, and people are relieved that you survived.
Until they find out it was you.
You, who cared too little to avoid cutting corners.
Instead, you opted to destroy families and live life a hated man.
Up in flames went your business and your credibility,
And the debris floated away in fiery masses on the surface of the evening ocean.
None of the survivors will ever look you in the eye again;
Not even when they condemn you in front of twelve troubled jurors.
You will feel their detestation from across the room,
But at least this you earned.
#fire #flames #blame #corruption
I prodded around in your past and drew blood,
So there's no wonder why you've been stuck in the mud.
Had you done as I said,
You wouldn't be here,
Or wish yourself dead,
That'll come in time, dear.
I don't want to hurt you,
But you've just got to learn.
See what you got yourself into?
You took another wrong turn.
So try as you might,
To stay sane through the night,
But your heart is clenched tight;
You can't win this fight.
#horror #torture #halloween #crazy
The Real Demon
He saw me, and I froze.
Those eyes try to seduce me,
But his smile changes everything.
I know not where my own demons lie, But I've seen his often.
They love to play with me,
And they don't want to let me go.
They even pity me, the things he does to me.
At least, with them, I have come to expect such things, and even welcome them.
It's the anticipation and uncertainty that eats me alive.
Yesterday you told me that you wake up to only thoughts of me,
Today, though, you keep saying that your love cannot be bought to me.
I shouldn't be surprised,
Our "love" wasn't built on honesty,
But you were the one who insisted on holding on to me.
I don't care anyway,
My feelings for you died and since have gone away,
This bond was weaker than those of Hydrogen,
And you'll no longer waste my oxygen.
The Sprite is a dicotomy,
Its wings are delicate and strong.
It can be washed away by the morning dew,
But every Spring, it's life's renewed.
I do often wonder,
How God created such things,
When the world surrounding is falling into ruins.
There is an infinite beauty about the silent grace of these little being,
And, if nothing else,
I now simply wait for the Hope of Spring.
#beauty #Heaven #spring #butterfly
Ode to Shakespeare
The Man of Men,
Who taught men of man
Before they were aware of it.
Your study is an art,
And your art is your study.
People praise you for reasons they do not even know,
And you provoke a sincere melancholy that changes the heart.
We laugh and cry and love and hate,
As you do.
Who has written for the ages,
And lives through them.
All we have are our ideas,
And they define us as much as our actions do.
To intend is to map out,
To look ahead,
When the aspirations inspire inspiration,
And combinations become creations,
Late-night conversations become revelations.
Art is living,
And the maker gives it life.
We birth our ideas,
And they grow into the movement of the world.
Through art, change is born.