[Poetry] Some Scant Poetry: "Angst in Progress"

Locks of fire, eyes so dark and haunting
The love of my dreams, the answer to my call
A rapturous maiden caught in my web
Willingly dying just to breath again

As the blue fires burn round and round
Nipping at our voices and blessed vices
Your breathing becomes stale and fervently stalling
And a wicked love is never satisfied

You run from me; I’m the darkness within
Encroaching and vile, withering and lustful
Insidious, worming, down on your knees
Surrender to me and be free on your chains

Believe in what for you I have built
A secret plateau where the dream-songs weep
Culling and creeping, they wash o’er your face
Filling your stuffing with ignorance and ecstasy

All around you, quenching your thirst for blood
Whispers dance and pirouette, kissing your ears
Masking the intention of their savage creator:
To love you eternally in solitude

You are beautiful to me in your loathing
Your hatred for me nourishing my narcissism
Love to execrate me, crave my gore
Upon your iniquitous hatemongering shall I feast

But dare you love me in return?
When I am but the shadow within your cold sweat?
Give unto me all of your sweet, sweet odium
For within it’s blackness, a perfume of hell shall I fuse

Scream for me, gift your last wisp of life
And I shall name my nostrum in your image:
Beautiful, maleficent, and mine

Swaying along to steady doldrums
The shadowy whisperings of soul
Slowly winding, perpetually grinding
The precarious pendulum now takes it’s toll

Avarice festers in roots of will
Ignorant to flesh’s corrupt decay
Hollow tickings releases scant pickings
And precious time has been lost on this day

Weathered eyes see the coming sepulcher
The veil of youth lifted; burned
The human condition breeds fell sedition
A mid-life crisis? Nay, it is murder

And within this parricide comes a longing
A base need for sedation and purpose
Coming in darkness, appealing to the loveless
It begs for the destruction of oneness

And yet without mercy or compassion
Oneness is what you are granted
Dying alone, in your cavernous home
No comfort to be had for the slighted

We are the bad kids, the ones in the basement
Content to watch our world crease
We look to the stars, all stitched and scarred
And wait for the pendulum to cease

Walking down streets alone
Going unnoticed; just another number
Seeking comfort and solace in all the wrong places
Knowing not if it truly exists

My heart grows cold as winter surges
Buried alive in bottled hatred
I begin to crack and crumble with every breath
Till anger becomes penultimate

And everything burns

Son to a murdered ideal
Patron to a dying cause
Slave to a perpetual revolution of souls
The time for lady death is nigh

Faith and a .45 are all I know
Wandering these sullen streets of vengeance
A gasoline can in my fist and a match in my teeth
No one is safe as I let loose my rage

And everything burns

Do you see me sitting here?
Hollow hands, empty pockets?
In these eyes burn the intense seething of hell
And on the darker side of the sun will I roam

Self-destruction calls us to action
A rebirth of the demon within us all
Waiting on gods and their puppets no longer
Time to open that door to the other side

And make everything burn

Maidens of three weave their strings
A tapestry of old, new, and yet to be
With delicate fingers they pull tight the threads
And create a cambric dress to be worn by the chosen

Past, present, future is gifted
To a child born upon the night of solstice
A woman-child created by force of will
A new mother to guide the fading stars to rest

But taken by the Norns in fear

Raising the child beneath their feet
Aiming to take her visions for their own
They rejoice and think themselves goddesses
But the heavens grow dull and destiny becomes blind

The tale of a shieldmaiden turned thrall and slave
Of unspeakable beauty and far-seeing power
Soon spread through all the lands of the north and west
And soon came to the halls of Bloodaxe

An aged king of old with honor to gain and give
He sent his legions of warriors and ships
Intent on claiming the goddess-born for his new bride
To bear him a son to fill his empty house

But the Norn’s weaving never ceases

A violent tempest is released upon the world
Ocean’s breath turns to frost, and the ships are ensnared
Bloodaxe’s kingdom falls into famine and disease
Yggdrasil’s branches turn yellow and black

But one hope remained: a hero among men

The man-child Lohric took up his dying father’s sword,
Prying the black hilt from the icy clutches of the sea
Angrim was the name of the foul blade-bared
Cursed by dwarves to cause death and bloodlust

Lohric’s veins breathed rage aflame
His seething aimed at the Norns of destiny
And so he stood atop the dragon’s head
Spying the frozen wasteland that stretched for eternity

Vowing honor and vengeance for his loss
He set out across the tundra, alone
The Norn’s blinded by their pride and fear
Failed to see the coming of man to their sanctuary

Months of traveling through ice and snow
An interminable ocean to cross by foot
Sustained by will and the sword alone
Lohric fell into hatred and blackness

No longer a boy, but a man; a berserker-birthed

After a lifetime of searching the wastes
Lohric found that great white spire of legend
And with his fell blade he stormed their ramparts
Cleaving all those who would call themselves Norn

Until he came to the highest room
The prison of the shieldmaiden-fair
Chained to the wall, unable to move
She pleaded with Lohric to lay down his steel

But the darkness rooted within would not ebb

Taking her life in a fit of rage
Unable to contain the hatred in his fists
Her blood stained deep her once-perfect cambric dress
And Lohric fell to his knees in shame

It was then that the curse on the blade was broken
Ultimate evil having completed it’s task
For now Ragnarok ceases to come; the cycle forever broken
And man will now live and die for all time

The stars had never burned brighter, as the gods were no more

Shivering starlight pokes holes in the heavens
Effervescently shimmering through air and carbon
A naked moon’s pockmarked face beams downward
O’er a cold, solitary scene of tested hearts

Her hand in mine, warm through thick mittens
The frigid air of winter rubs red our faces
Our smoky breath coalesces as we embrace
Chasing away the ice found tween

Oh how I had missed her

From spring’s green pastures and miraculous growth
To Summer’s indelible heat and longevity
Out in the desert fighting for a cause unsure
A soldier now comes home to his one, true life

If for but a moment, our wordless hearts beat true
Two harmonious souls separated by land and sea
I gaze into those honest, glistening eyes of emerald
And know I am home

The fires in the night, the shredding teeth of steel
All fade away as I hold to her tightly
Though I know the job isn’t done, and more lay on the horizon
I take solace in her unwavering heart

I kiss away the tears, try to lessen the hurt
A phantom in her arms I must be
Eighteen months on the other side of the world
Must make one wonder if they are already dead

But up in those scintillating fireflies
Somewhere in the grand scheme of life
Lay an answer to why we do what we do
And what truly matters

And right now...all that matters is us

Winter’s breath in my veins
Coldness coursing, it’s come again
A dying lamp who’s light shines dull
And it finds that fight on the inside

Raging fires coalesce with ice
A patient man’s rage threatening
Pieces of me gifted away by choice
Now traded for base desires and idle wonder

Worming throughout like a warmongering plague
The choice to infect but uncordial chance
The failing of my quality through ethereal means
And all that remains is the hollow fight on the inside

You told me once that you could heal my wounds
Cauterize these fetid blisters into scars of dead skin
But the memory still skulks at the threshold to my madness
And through this pen does my silent, angered sorrow bleed

Enigmatic to the searching soul
A festering seed of profane malice
Angst without purpose, without intuit or limit
A fight on the inside just to watch the world burn

This face on the water I no longer agnize
This man bred from the failings of youth seemingly lost
But on the inside I feel am still the same
Contending with demons long-since attenuated

Paper flowers wreathe my vision
Forever creased, never again to be whole
Molded, cast, set in their ways
And the fight on the inside burns on

very nice.

Can no longer take
The escalating stakes
All I want is to run away

Can never satisfy
This hunger of mine
To find a better day

But you waited for me
Even though I was lost
Lent me your hand
And I was saved for the perfect dawn

Fell down again
Can no longer bend
I feel brittle and alone

Where is your hand
Come to save this man
Now but flesh and bone

But you waited for me
Until I was ready for you
Lent me your hand
And I was spared for the perfect dawn

Daylight breaks through the dark
Chasing away shadows of time
A hollow empty fills with light
And the perfect dawn is on the inside

The perfect dawn is on the inside

On my own again
With no home or friend
Where is that hand I once held

She is lost to me
Gone for eternity
My memories bleed like hell

But you left me behind
Me, unable to find the way
Recoil your hand from this monster
And the perfect dawn fades to black

Sunset drifts among the clouds
The smoke begins to clear
My eyes coming alive
A prayer echoes within

Our world lay ravaged from the fires within
A multitude of voices silenced
Scattered, separated, hope spread thin
Strife sets in and sorrow seeds deep

We look to the heavens for answers
Effervescent stars drifting in stillness
Cold, alone, we rise from the ashes
And gaze upon our home-in-ruin

Through these eyes I see the path
That leads to the lands of evermore
But I turn mine sight from that path
And instead choose to remain

Taking to the skies with the last of our kind
We set upon those who came with steel and flame
Choosing instead to fight for our home
Letting all else fall away in shadow

You taught me how to sing, to speak
To see the ways of a not-so-distant kin
One of you I now choose to be
Even until death...and the narrows of evermore

And I see you

I see you

Fields of flowerets grace your eyes
Rolling hills of vibrant crimson
You find yourself alone, walking amongst the poppies
Awakened from a long, frightful slumber

The petals kiss your wayward fingertips
As you pass along their fastidious stems
Painting you red with their touch
Streaks of blood upon your skin

Memories now pass as frivolously as time
The remnants of a life lived for but a moment in chaos
For in these fields of eternity are gods and demons born
Where innocence is overrun by instinct

Set apart from the needs of the flesh
You are free to roam, to do as you please
But in exchange for this freedom, this releasing of will
You are to be alone, one with your ponderous thoughts

Unless love is truly without bounds

So when you find yourself in those fields of poppies
Dancing forever in the sun-hewn hills
There you may find me, counting grains
Awaiting the coming of you

Mystery surrounds the ocean blue
A continual expanse of memory and time
The setting sun conceals itself within the waves
And my ship sails the everlasting current

But to where hence shall I journey?

Storm clouds gather upon the horizon
A dark blanket hiding away the stars
Rain begins to patter like coltish footsteps
And taunt my vessel as it crashes against the rush

So it is said that God is in the rain
And furious doth the rain now come

Lighting rolls along the sackcloth heavens
Billowing fires of darkness from a hammer-hand
My ship shudders, cold and alone in a sea-perpetual
Fearing the rage of the storm

The sails tatter, the bowsprit splinters
The wheel breaks loose, the rudder waves freely
Without direction, without compass the ship drifts
And the waves crash o’er the railings

I gaze beyond the ship, the wind and rain unbearable
Land ho!
But my eyes are that of a fool without recourse
For against the rock shall I perish, my ship scuttled

No rapture for a wicked heart of yearning
Or a life foolishly spent in fear unfounded
Scouring out there in the emptiness that is the sea
You either drown or are crushed against the rocks of time

And the rain washes you away, taking you down into the depths

Beside myself in the cold of the night
Clinging to my words like a madman-leashed
This quiet rage blisters as I murder my creations
The sun dying in worlds of unending woe

There is no crueler master than I
Ripping apart hearts and sinuous bones
Steel and fire deaden the valiant few into soulless monsters
And another piece of myself is shuffled loose

Until they are all hollow like me

My hatred for all things good bleeds through this pen
I mask the rot with good intentions and feigned naivety
Gallant heroes are destined to become the darkness
Leaving destruction and my will in their iniquitous wake

In this place I am no longer alone
My children birthed to sooth my wounds
A god-born shapes these worlds of unending pleasure and violence
But through his holy writ he surely plays the devil

And hell is unleashed whenever a moment of safety dares breathe

A vendetta against the innocent burns within
All shattered, mangled cadavers of my dwindling heart
Piece by piece, bit by bit, one by one they are vociferously hacked
Until I am become ravaged, left behind to face the rapture, marooned

Dead to reality

But then a reflection is seen though the dark glass
Keen eyes that pierce the black, seeing the beast beneath the layers
Outside looking in, they are kind, forgiving
Curing the epidemic, quelling the fires

I fight the coming tide, kick against the pricks
I cling to my hatred, the only feeling I have ever known
I spit into the face of the Samaritan come to save my soul
I have abandoned my children, and now I am damned

At my wake the question is asked: could he have ever possibly loved?
An anger so strong would surely have an equal antithesis
And the answer is no, for all I ever truly felt was numb
All the rest was but a lie

All I had ever been is a lie

An east wind blows to my door
Bringing memory along with the cold
I dream of distant fields, gold and evergreen
Of mountains-distant, of talks with God

That smell of clean, of the untainted wild
My footfalls a trespass upon it’s innocence
I feel that cleansing wind pass o’er my flesh
Washing away the stain of civilization

The mountain to me is what the ocean is to the sailor
Though the hunter lives not in my veins
I could die out there in the wood, cold and alone
And feel at peace; one with the motherland

Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme

Oh, how I miss that sense of tranquility
Now sacrificed to the constraints of my people
I ache for the loss I feel in my very soul
Yonder mountain so close; beyond the reach of my boots

Somewhere out there is the world from which we are birthed
Hunter-gatherers out on the plains, surviving in synergy
Clean, efficient, spiritual, whole
Is this the life that our forebears intended?

The animal within has been quelled, but not yet defeated

So I sit on my porch, feeling that cold in my lungs
Remembering simpler times when God was but a mountain away
And dream of the day when I might return to her grace
And speak with her once more

Deathless horses roam the wilds
Of hearts fully tested, left wanting and yearning
Mustangs in the heat of moments-untamed
Breathing deep the sands of Sonara

The ever-changing beat of the desert
Draws you in, chokes the lungs
Dunes crumble if dare you touch
Never again as it was, but never-ending all the same

An immortality of change and consequence

Driving deep into the breadth of the wastes
Beauty is found in the vast emptiness
Hot winds blister the lips, dry the skin
The smell of sage omnipresent

For but a drink one would sacrifice all
Even the desert itself, a fool would grant
But know only the soul thirsts here
Everything else lay as ever-changing as the sands

As ever-changing as I
For Sonara is me, and her, I

Those horses continue on into the storm
The coming of thunder forerunning their hooves
Desert roses bleed through the cracked, parched soil
Begging for rain, but it never comes

The Goddess of the Desert was once the plentiful rain
Ne’er again to kiss the sands
She fled to the heavens in a blind pursuit of knowledge forlorn
Seeking the stars and what makes them burn

Her oasis now a desert-born,
Raw beauty stripped clean of crude shallows
Shackles shed of the water-fed greens
Now gleaming brightly with the fires of red sand

The fires of Sonara

In the sea of night
When the senses fade
I’m taken away
to where stars are made
And I...can’t fight the design

In stygian streams
When true colors are nigh
And your dreams take flight
You don’t fear to die
But you bear...witness to the crime

Shadow waters pass over us
Washing away all the signs of rust
Spiritual energy
Can’t you see
The storm in the night

Blocking out the sunlight

Ever we wander, tied to our own
And all that remains is a broken home
I reach for your fingers
Are you there
Adrift on your own

And I’m left all alone

In the sea of night
Where gods are born
Memory skews
All that love forlorn
And you...don’t remember your name

Those falling stars
begin to collide
Furiously dreaming
Of the other side
The dream...lost in the rain

Oh, so close now
But so far apart
I ache for you touch
I can’t see the way
Drifting and falling
I lose the light

And I’m left in the night

Thorns betwixt the white roses fair
Barb slender stems of green and gold
Gifts to a love not shorn of peril
Though gathered still with knowing hands

Lured blood wreathes the snowy petals
Staining the pure with glistening tears
Each rose given is never of naught
For pain and love oft come as one

Lucid moments of wistful intervals
Exploit the heart, ensnare the mind
Painting a canvas of marvelous brevity
An elegy writ for the soul of time

For she once was a true love of mine

On yonder hill lay a garden of earth
White roses tended by youthful intentions
Thorns ripen under a blood-orange sun
And yet another gift to give have I

For my maiden fair a white rose shall I part
Clove from Mother Earth as cruelly as no other
It’s body grows cold, a callous quietus
Though it’s charm endures...for a time

For ‘tis I the thorn that hungers to draw blood
And she the beauteous floret to wilt

Long sleeves and wristbands hide the evidence
Of a twisted love birthed in the dead of night
Of crimson and silver brought together as one
Of screams never uttered but in my mind

When alone, I cower in dark places
Bringing onto myself the pain ever so slowly
Seeing the warmth pool on the sink and my cramped fingers
I am entranced by my scar tissue tattoos

It stings, hurts like hell
But not as much as doing without
People ask of the dark patches of dead skin
“Accident” is a popular romance

People think they know
Think they understand and can help
But none can peer into my soul and divulge
The presence of mind needed to stomach one’s self

But most simply move on
Allowing me my right to bleed

So go ahead and make light of my pain
Curse and vilify the want to break the static
Take note of my plight, but know this:
You do not save; only hate

They call it wrong, unstable
Madness becomes the moniker of truth
Mad? No, I am sane
God, I am sane, and have never before felt so alive

If there is a sunlight within
Burning on the inside like a cross alight
I do not know it, but I think I have felt it
And always wish to again

I’m not an addict
I’m an artist
A person
A god

I am what is left behind
When the sunlight returns to the inside

Deep in the heart lays a slumbering power of old
Stowed by the gods when man fled from Eden’s throes
A gift and a curse from the breast of forgotten foes
A healing destruction...of ebony and gold

Giants and Titans both fell to this great desire
The will to conquer and king gifted from a fell liar
Unknowing, yet willing, they became slaves to this burning pyre
Thralls to the envy...of a withering fire

Magics of darkness wreathe this hidden, sacred power
But the time is nigh when innocence no longer flowers
Run for the hills, children of this high and blackened tower
Run for the hills...and fear the coming of that hour

Unleashed, unbridled, the demon is now set free
Murdering, torturing, hunting man mercilessly
The monster has come now to cleanse the world of iniquity
Find, through your destruction...the freedom it brings

The call of the wild now summons you to come home
Back to the mother, where milk and honey flows
Eden reminds you of all that was once forlorn
But lingering within you...is that demon once-born

Hills of emerald and gold pulse with the wind
Framing rugged mountains built of solace and strife
A fast-flying fiddle echoes along the range
Calling home the wayfaring traveler

The voice of the past flows from the highlands
Sings to the sea’s waves, paints the journeying wind
Long gone are the hungered children of fortune
But the blood in their veins cannot be quelled

Always calling to those sent abroad
The strings and pipes speak to the soul
The power within my veins compels me to return
Back to where my history was born

Mac Giolla Bríghde is the name that I bear
Scotch-Irish is intravenous throughout my flesh
My Tartan bleeds proud of green and blue
My Arms of red and white

I hear the voice sounding through the wilds
Calling the wayfaring traveler home
I know not when I’ll touch the earth of my ancestors
But inevitably I feel drawn

Wow...I just noticed that this thread has passed 2k views! Thanks to everyone who has rummaged through this hill of compost!

Deep in the throes of a restless autumn
Amber leaves drifting from the heavens alight
The morning sun creeps upon the growing horizon
While, inside, a father prepares

The mother clads her mate in time-honored steel
Securing tightly that which may bring him home
She pushes against the tears, tries to remain strong
For this is one morning amidst so many others past

The youngest daughter, seven years of age
Sits in the kitchen amidst a mess of feathers
Tearing, gluing, she proves her great worth
Attaching fletching to her father’s arrows

The middle son sits just outside the door
His foot bouncing rhythmically against a pedal
Churning a stone exploding with spark
His father’s great sword now sharper than teeth

The eldest son watches intently his mother
Hiding behind a screen door, eyes peering ‘round
For generations have the men of Westnor protected the lands
And he knows, shortly, the armor will be his

“Bring me my arrows, and blade of the west”
Father commands of his tireless progeny
“Bring me my mead to drink to the gods
And pray for a victorious return”

The mother kisses not her love gone to war
Leaves no impressions of frailty nor weakness
Her’s is the man who commands a full legion
No strength from her doth he need

The youngest daughter weeps in revered silence
Careful not to show her face to the world
She prays her fletching proves straight and true
For this enemy of Westnor is swift and cunning

The middle son’s tears flow like warm raindrops
For his is a position of softness and servitude
Only the eldest is ever to go to war
And help all he can he has done

The eldest son stands out in the fields
Far removed from the rest of his kin
Watching his father’s horse blend into the sunrise
Other riders from the village joining the trek

The father’s horse turns as he reaches the high hills
Spying the land of his forbears at breadth
The pain in his heart troubles his hardened mind
For this morn is to be like none other

A new, fell aggressor, thrice that of their number
Had entered their lands, not for plunder nor for gods
But to simply shed blood and paint the fields crimson
A dark glory alone was their aim and intent

He prayed for his family, hoped they would long live
In spite of this horde reaving all who draw breath
He regretted not telling them the direness of this morn
But in greed kept the pain for his own

The Father turned back and climbed o’er the hill
The fires in the east coming to the eye and the nose
Drawing his sword, the best sharpening gifted him yet
He rode with his comrades into the maw

To glory and honor, may the stars remember