The Wrath of Winter

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Cold.

Sound. 

Numb.

The winter is beginning.

The hour is at hand.

The trembling embrace of the snow.

Like a blanket for this land;

the body is the land. The farmer is in for it–

the worst of winter, for the bitterness abroad is bound to take shelter,

like a wanderer or maybe an adventurer.

My… 

heart…

beats…

like…

a…

…forgotten warmth.

…And there it is again,  the song of the bones in overture, and then–

With every 

swing of the clock’s crimson arm.

Winter becomes bearable; even in the midst of its revenge–

Copyrightcopyright April 17, 2019

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The Crown of Elysium

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Hiding in the Trees of Fate amongst the swinging air of Elysium; There lies God.

The Great I Am, in motion.

Floating the winds above the Aether,

swinging angels in His steps;

unleashing fury, upon the darkness,

the platinum sun beckons;

the glowing one, lighting for continence;

and in the trees of fate, there lies the infinity of heaven’s jungles,

the birds life-sized, larger than buildings,

peace be still while the Earth spheres round–

Copyrightcopyright March 9, 2019

Regnum Bella (Kingdom Wars)

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And in the castle, there lies the walls;

forged by the blacksmith of buildings, the mortar embraces the wind-

the wind is a businessman, shaking hands with the settlement’s structures–

the way the earth’s ground snuggles the ancient old pavement still;

like a newborn with their mother–

the clouds go to circle around the rook, and the watchtower greets the skies;

the way a sturdy building hit by a country’s enemies ground-zeros;

the earth’s moss covers over any demise–

Copyrightcopyright March 2, 2019

Greyshadow

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The autumn sun in the swinging air, that is this man’s breathing lair;

the sound of an incomplete winter, built to freeze against, this skin woven mare–

the heart is a wandering headsman, striking for the soul–

and the wind is an echo fading into the unknown–

lonely hearts seeking like missiles for the target;

an umbra is the cloud of fate, to shroud the buildings in wake–

the fog is from the car’s pipes, and;

there is no steering wheel to swing its reins–

Copyrightcopyright February 28, 2019

Battleships Deployed From Elysium

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And it is all’s fair in love and war;

just as it was before–

the tanks swinging opera across the suburbs;

the buildings lifting upward into the skies;

like falling up–

to greet the sunlight of the dystopian light;

the soldiers jumping rooftop to rooftop, creating craters into the ground with their stance;

a sixpence is equal to war;

and to look behind you would be a death sentence–

the floating planes;

a dogfight gathers ‘cross the skies;

and The Bombs of Fate falling down upon–

it’s like a volley of wrath upon our eyes;

Copyrightcopyright February 21, 2019

The War On Andromeda

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The tanks swung an opera ‘cross the suburbs–

We have us a dogfight gathering over yonder ev’ry skies-

and an endless light of bullets that each ask us, “why?”

The eye on our heads is a bullseye. Our mothers are Andromeda’s glare ‘cross the galaxy, and–

we are earthbound to planetfall ‘cross her lair;

swinging sidewalk; the cement, we uproot the human species–

oxygen is a means to an end in the lungs of the war-waging light of frisbee;

the clouds like fog, that we drink upward through our noses;

the chin a pillar standing in the open;

to crash course with the bitter winter-

even the sun’s heat is used as is shone;

to thaw the frozen husk of whomever be winner–

Copyrightcopyright February 21, 2019