Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Monday, August 25, 2008

Friday, August 22, 2008

Above the carnage and pyres

(It might be a scientific fact that Ravens do not fly in darkness, but I was imagining when I wrote this a moment when the battle is done and all that remains are the Ravens aloft watching, and perhaps the moment is unusual, and the Ravens are so enraptured that they do not realize the darkness of night. So if it bothers you to think of them doing what they might not do, then think of it as fiction, which of course, it is.)

in the snow, in the twilight

Saturday, August 16, 2008


The Istvacones tribe fell to our Legion
While supporting their Gaelic cousins
Running to the Rhenus to escape their pursuers
The wild children hunted by the dogs of Caesar
They fell but weren’t broken
For Germania awaits his children
The Legions dare not enter
Germania devours all who enter
Who remain not his kin
Germania tribes armed and angry
Have crushed all Legions marching for Rome’s honor
While in Germania the fatherland of war
You beckon across the Rhenus
You taunt the Legions who chase your children
We long only for home, and desire some sort of victory
But we cannot subdue the Germania nor its kin
My years in the Gaul never prepared me
To see or deal with the Germania
Legions worn to a man, with blood left upon the snows
Mixed now with the melt,
In the confluence
The flowing channels of the Rhenus
Germania bleeds but heals
We simply die, left to our fates
Forgotten at home
Ignored not by Germania
Where we are running and never reaching
Where we are failing and falling for the honor of Rome
Upon the Northern frontiers of the Empire
Upon our knees in despair and pained
While the Rhenus still flows
And Germania stands
Wounded, yes, bleeding, certain
But alive in testament that we’ve failed

Friday, August 15, 2008


Waiting for the moment
When my day will come
When all that is confused
Will come apart undone
Waiting for my time
When my words mean a thing
When they will be heard
When my words will sing
For I have been waiting
Waiting for the day
When all I’ve struggled with crumbles
When the hubris falls away
I mourn the loss of dreams
I mourn the failure of hope
I mourn the memories of pain
I mourn the scars upon my throat
From where I hung my body
Upon a noose in air
And I fell from that place
Due to my urgent prayer
Save me, save me, save me from this place
Save me, save me, save me from the distress
I cannot cope with this misery
I cannot survive in the demon’s glare
I cannot survive living in despair.

Monday, August 11, 2008


This world has died so many times, This ocean so wide has renewed,
The air so pure of smoke and fire, I cannot breathe it is true
No matter how many times I try I bring air in but cannot inhale
So polluted, so undeserving, this world will meet its fate
No matter how many times I try, it will retaliate
No matter how many times I try, it will kill

Thursday, August 7, 2008

You Should Know

Dropping from the roof of my mouth
Falling out of my lips
The words revealed so much
But they were like the iceberg's tip
Across the meadow I see you
I run to your embrace
It heals me to be with you
The look on my face says
I’d never lie to you, never leave you in pain
I’d never cheat you, never hurt you
I’d never leave you in the rain
But whatever I think it doesn’t matter
You read into my words what is not there
You always take control
You cannot escape your fears
That I would ever leave you
That I’d ever let you down
That I’d ever not be there for you
That someday I’d be gone
But I love you, I never didn’t
Without your love I’d drown
Without you I’d never see daylight
With you it is always dawn
Don’t leave me without knowing
That all you are to me is all
Let me show you I need you
Let me sing the lovers call
Let me pour out my heart
Let me show you all

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Wolf Cub's First Winter

In the wood, the solemn place
Where the trees fallen don’t permit
Snowfall to get deep
The gentle moans of cub
Waking, from her sleep
Covered in a blanket
Of freshly fallen snow,
So cold, so pure,
Covers where she laid
She shakes her head
Sprays off the flakes
And hops across the floor
Of the forest white
And hunts for food
To celebrate the day.

Har Meggido

Please click the image, so the words can be read more easily. A mountain and pass, famous for ancient battles, gives its name to the end times, Armageddon.

Monday, August 4, 2008


This poem is the result of a work I did in prose where I tried to use a variety of different magic races from folklore to tell a modern story. I chose instead just to write a poem and junked the other work.

I guess I prefer poetry.
Big surprise.

The Monoliths of Mars

Someone asked me if this poem didn't have quite a few typos or errors, but they found out that rather, it has names they'd not heard of before.

The Winter Mists

I Fear Armageddon