Tag Archives: Creative writing

The Angels Do Too

The depths of the ocean made many ship a slave. But I’ll rise to the surface, and die with you upon a wave Did the prophets see those bloody sheets? Do they know the meaning in our pains? They take you in one week. But you’ll burn forever threw my veins. Like when they tarmacedContinue reading “The Angels Do Too”

The Abyss

Amongst the foreign voices I think of home, and you, my English rose. My hands grasp for the top of the mountain, my feet guided by the stepping stones. The opressors whip, the bootlicker bullies flock to mock. My sons! my sons will know they’re from hard godly stock. Distracted by the beauty that surrounds,Continue reading “The Abyss”

At the Cybeles Fountain

I take in all we have assembled, as we stand here hand in hand, once again. I take heart, for the next sexenial, plenty of ink still in my pen. In the splash of fountain water the lions raw for you to now bloom. Grasp the pearl, you have been the bride I’m always yourContinue reading “At the Cybeles Fountain”

These Screams

Are these screams from inside my mind? Or out there? Is it the theif? The scent of ravaged swine in the air? It conflicts though my tongue remains straight. In this cursed world. The truth they hate. Their aim, the unblossomed an it’s dark. Sanity has boarded. I cannot watch it debark. The dark soulsContinue reading “These Screams”

The Introverted Man

He likes the lights low lit, his style low key His thinking is complicated, wise as the mystical oak tree. In the sounds of silence my stillness is bold He knows energy, see’s vibes I stare at my tea untill it turns cold. Should you ever outshine the master? Like the eagle from the mountainsContinue reading “The Introverted Man”

a desert turn green

I saw a desert turn green. But no letters today, and the phone rang out. I picked up a pen so I didnt scream. I made it rhyme, so I wouldnt shout. I looked out the window in night, as she left me in a dream. I could see things clear from the moonlight IContinue reading “a desert turn green”

The Bullet

I dont know what you want. Friends waste my time anyway. Someday I’ll be gone. My words though, will carry on. I write, as I find it hard to say. I cant explain where my interests are born, but I need them like the night. I’m blessed in the eyes of danger. Though I struggleContinue reading “The Bullet”