Ragged Storm

Ragged storm! With the voice and demeanour

Of God, do you encircle me for judgement?

Are my sins a veil to lose me between worlds?

I am only one among many servants

That fell to the serpent’s way,

Outcast from the dregs of empire

That, like a plague, covers the world in a more

Vengeful darkness than thee.


Now I stand helpless to your claws

And the lashing rain that cleanses us

And the torn lightning that whips us.

Towards the darkling plume we sail

And I wonder if we deserve to see the day again.


The Arrogant Conquest


In the winter Kings will fall

Watching princes take the shore.


Immortal fingers clasp the wild winds

That weave around like golden string.

This, a quiet call towards the maelstrom

Is taken by the foolish king.


Pride call upon your vessels

Spirits take your place;

The armies of approaching chaos

Will steal the wilting waste.


Cling now to the remnants

That bare the royal name

Defy the voice of thunder

And let the bastard take the blame.


For he is no impure desire, no,

He is the brightest jewel;

This sordid crown will conquer him

As he leads his band of fools.


“Sisters take your shields now

Children take your bows,

Prophets are just mortal men

Who keep from us all they know!

Trust not reason my heir

For that will be your death

Face the beckoning eyes of fate

And draw a defiant breath.”


And here I wait with the Seeing Eye,

Perched atop an obelisk

To watch the last king die.

A Body in Eden

In paradise lay a serene and empty form

With eyes closed and clothes left torn,

That sweet birds sang to through the day

For in Eden did his body stay.


A myriad of flowers grew in his open hand

And autumn leaves like fallen dryads land

Upon this body now cold and alone

For in Eden he died unknown.


Nothing of heart or feeling remains

Under the first born sun or the eternal rain.

This child was born only to die

For in Eden did his body lie.

Salem’s Fools

We are Salem’s fools

Fearful and hollow,

We are cruel

And born to follow.


Our eyes are bright

With firelight,

And our devils die screaming.


Our village unbound and

Our vision blind,

Our victims are found

To be our kind.


It is too late, for their blood

Stains our hands

And we cry to ourselves at night.


Yet we are still sure we are right.

Winter’s Spirit

Four winters I have seen

With the power to cloud the summers green,

When roses were lost under snow and frost

Like crystal or starlight, white in a dream.


A pool around a bright blue eye

Or a jewel hidden in the white of the sky,

A fountain stands untouched by the hands

Of Winter, unable to rest, unable to die.


She approaches, pale skin and hair,

A being as harsh as Ice and pure as air;

Unable to bestow her curse of killing snow

On the fountain standing both strong and fair.


Nor can she hold back the coming Spring

Who calls for life to grow and birds to sing,

And Winter loses her dominion in the dawn.

Darkness fades, and newly grown, everything.

Churchyard in Padstow

I left behind idle time

Once I entered the churchyard in Padstow

Silent and alone.

No names written on the weathered graves,

No choir in the church

Yet songs ran free from budding trees,

Songbirds in their morbid sanctuary.

One gate leads to the path towards the sea,

The other into woodland

Nightly shaded even in the day.

This is peace in harmonious decay.

Autumn Woods

Those heavy hours that linger

On the rivers of autumns veins

Grow colder and more silent

As woods see wind and rain.


Bells call upon the night birds

To take for themselves a sky

Now stained with ink and stars.

Too soon comes the hollow night.


Now those free and ancient woods

Once the realm of life newly grown,

Harbours only spirits caught

In the final throws of death alone.

The Sea

Sunlight does not reach these Caverns

Open like the mouths of stagnant hell.

They grow darker as you drift on down

Slowly in the balance of gentle death.


Like a feather in a ray of moonlight

You no longer cling to a beating heart.

Instead, between the black and the waves,

You drift before the stars fade away.


Your hands reach for the silver moon

Rays reaching out to you like pale arms.

But it is too weak to hold on to you

And they retreat into the oncoming dawn.


So, silently, you fall into the open dark

Still and cold but free to hope,

You will be lifted by loving hands to the sky,

The stars grow closer as you finally die.