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Half his life he spent wondering in shadow,
For no few than years would fail to pass,
Bitter more nor sweeter less comes to know,
And he ne not knew the terror that he was,

Until he became man, and so became him,
Ere swept glory wept ere really born,
Shaken from brow down to lidless whim
Who called on night in bittersweet scorn:

Oh, Moon. Don’t let the moon die so soon,
An hour for night in a single second,
Is but mine earnest fault in lasting boon,
Whose wrongs I am are but rights ere reckoned.

Big Bad Wolf

Out of the darkness their mighty fall,
From hence they rose ere more they throw,
In light of thirst they yonder grow,
Tender words thought at once so low,
And there begins a triumph better they call:

Wonders then for what he was, whom shall be,
These simple words; his mind so whispered far,
Tuned his mind to the sound his life ne does make,
And threw his eyes at reality’s greatest scar,
Whose life how fret could play not in tune. Ne. Read More

Their Remembrance

Every night tears would fill her womb,
Her shaking will draw him more to break,
At last was one night so still to miss:
My dear, in this lasting hour my yonder breath,
New thoughts and pleasant sights is little nigh,
Hence better actions and deeds come tide,
These final hours I give lasting words yet reprieve,
Though I action myself in months before to here,
I am but not finished my actions come for here,
Have it time: God declares this night of birth,
Ere the sun rises shall be birth ye humble year,
May pass how slow and fast encumber fates,
Sour now drown is foul so down her heart as late,
No sparks can free her eyes to better year ahead,
Though I cannot afford a glass between you and I, Read More

Our Light of Woe

There, is light but none and he,
He, but is not the light I knew,

These dims that call me from far,
Is far from him as light never was,

Though mine heart is ill and conjured,
Though conjured is little said but mourn,

Ere morn, my morn is the evening hollow,
Is God more the light and dark too still?

Alas, of the night my light is utter spent,
Is ill before and my sight is hinder lent,

Free are the chains to chain him in time,
In time he shall enter the crossroads lone, Read More

In order

I am stayed,
Ne not heard,
I fall down,
I rise more,
The waves fall,
The moon signs,
The moon writes,
The night dawns,
A sun sets,
But strayed gone,
The owl hoots,
Though not heard,
Ere the night,
Become day,
To be sung,
Thus to sing,
To walk here,
Walks away,
The blame round,
Echoes far,
At last wept,
Is small felt.

G.H.O.S.T.

But while she walks round no life,
Is all but life in me to fight,
Stirs in dark, hides through light,
A ling’ring spirit ere close was nigh,
Dare myself a walk in ways I ne knew,
As a shadow close casts blood to brew,
Then, a quiet walk then was utter strife.

Within the clutches my nails soon broke,
Whose skin so pale, mine almost torn,
Whose watch even pierced sun at dawn,
Alas, no light would enter but here,
Last, my seconds deign the hours gone,
Is soon but fought my guilt is done,
For even silent whispers can me choke.

With every pace I forward was she turned,
With every breath my heart strung hers,
By light I would have known her first,
At that time she called to me a saviour,
But my lady, as said I am no better saint,
Here I am walking the slowest dare to faint,
For to close mine eyes is fate too burned. Read More