Straight gentle
Flowing black hair
The summer sun
A breeze in the air
A tender smile
And deep gazing eyes
Looking beyond
To where my soul lies

I'm sure I knew you
In ages past
When the sun was brighter
And love did last
Beyond the surface
Of empty sweet words
To something deeper
Not felt or heard
And though to those days
I have always been drawn
None now remember
To where they have gone
Yet I am content
Simply to know
Such an age existed
So long ago

Far off and afloat
Through dreams and nightmares
All tethered and tangled together
A clear path is not set
Ever shifting as the snow
That seeks to consume us all

Enough time is not left to decipher
Where the dream ends and reality remains
I fear that time has already abandoned us
As we walk the cold scorched wastes
In search of an atonement
We resigned all hope of attaining

The dream goes on
If one could call it that
The reality of one mind
Stimulates us all in the dark
Only embers remain
As our spirits grow dull
The last spark of light
Withering in our stillborn eyes

I pray the solemn moon
Guides others to our quarry
That though our bones are frozen
Hope will yet remain
In this the night of all dreams

The clock has been set
And it's counting down
To an inescapable doom
That we feel so imminently

But the clock is just a construct
Devised by man to tell the seasons
Time itself holds no weight
In the grand course of things

The clock will eventually break
When midnight is struck
Signaling the arrival
Of humanity's end

In our aftermath
Creation will carry on
As if nothing of consequence
Had even taken place

And truely nothing had

Oh heaven
Above the soil
Where men do sweat
In endless toil
When will you
Descend from on high
To meet our tired
And weary eyes

Weary wanderer wisk away
All the pain of yesterday
Close your eyes and rest your heart
Let the earth to you impart
Her splendor in the smallest things
And to your soul be guiding wings

Sightless birds
Over streams of gold
A setting sun
On empires old
The night to come
Sweet stillness bring
A warming darkness
Before the spring

Whisper gently
In my ear
Innocent words
From tender years

Hold me close
As the sun sinks low
Through the curtains
A golden glow

Then close your eyes
Lay with me here
Our troubles far
When sleep is near

Those above
The myriad below
In timeless fog
Does judgment grow
Though unsuspected
And all unseen
One might know
From what they glean
In words, in stories
Great ages old
From where we've come
Not what we're told
Though in time we might
See a vast clear sky
And what for eons
In the fog has lied
Then will we
Know naught but fear
The coming watch
Of Olon-Vir

Space felt,
But not perceived.
Dimensions known
We may not leave.
Yet just beyond
Our senses felt,
All rules and laws
Begin to melt.
Swirling, twisting
To strange new form;
Sight is cold
Yet thought is warm.
And when all things
Have come to pass,
Will it start anew
Again, at last.

Others seen in elegance
Perfection of their craft
How we desire their gifts
Forgetting our own

The world died

And has been reborn
Countless times now
I am not sure
If the Earth I knew
Is the one I yet stand on

The light fades
And with its recession
Do the Formless move
Unrestrained now
As they once were

Before the stars were born

I've seen you out the window
The window to my soul
But you keep staring in
Knowing it's not whole

Sometimes I hear your voice
Distorted through the glass
Oh how I wish you'd stay
As long as I would ask

But I know that can't happen
You're just a passerby
I could never break the glass
No matter how I try

Yet even if I'm destined
To be apart from you
I'll close my eyes and dream
Of things that lovers do

And perhaps in far off sleep
I'll hold you close to me
Though you're far away
I hope that you will see

Through the window to my soul

A dozen no more
And one yet in store
To wipe the slate clean
And end the long war

So few yet remain
If anything's to gain
It will be so those young
Might not know our pain

Down in drops
Never more than three
From the highway above
The stars encapsulated in them
Time flows backward
Or so one would think
Yet the reality hidden to us
Is far more unique

Jupiter passes through us
Ephemeral and ethereal
It's orbit lost long ago
The fortress moon
Now rests upon us
Bearing down upon our souls
With it's unblinking gaze

Our Onlyborn moon
Who raised us from youth
Lies shattered and drowned
In the depths of the sea
And after it's death
Will the sun soon follow
Leaving no light
But that of the watched
Great Birulon displaced

The world is no longer
The moon fallen from the sky

The sun is dull and distant
A mere twinkle in the eye

A lonesome spirit wanders
Amid those shattered shores

Where once young souls walked
Once and nevermore

Far distant capital
On the Ilmyuin slopes
Where once was held
The hopes and dreams of all
Where white towers rose
Grandiose spires to the clouds
Touching the very heavens
Bringing them closer to the earth
The pride of all mankind
But now who can say
What has become of the city
For it has not been seen
Since the great ice fell
Covering the northern realms
In shadow and snow
Perhaps one day
In distant times to come
The pure cobalt walls
Of that lost city
Will shimmer once again
Beneath the light of a resurgent sun

Oh how bright, the lifeless stars
Hurdling through deepest space
The planets swirling about them
In an elegant orbital dance
And though live they do not
Perhaps on some grander scale
They are the very instruments of life

A Life we can scarce imagine

Any man can create chaos
Few men can create order
But one must be a God
To bring the two in balance

Long ago,
Before the black ice of the North
Began pouring down
A great empire stretched
From the primordial mountains
To the the great foaming sea
They thought themselves
The masters of their world
In that age where the gods
Were rarely present
Or accounted for
But with the gods abandonment
Came lost terrors
Sealed since antiquity
In the deep places of the earth

And from beyond the stars

A fabled cathedral
Built on the Deep
Unknown to all
Save by sleep
Where wanderers gather
From ages far flung
To rest and to listen
For the Bell to be rung
And when it does toll
Will they worship in vain
Not for lack of faith
But for lack of great pain
To atone for their sins
Do they sleep yet awake
In hopes they they might
Their father's curse break
But the Deep rings its call
So somber and sweet
Like the call of a siren
That no man can defeat
Sweetly it whispers
Perfumes to the mind
In an instant to change
In a moment to bind
Those souls of wanderers
Beneath the stars of sleep
That they might trudge and fall
Into the maw of the Deep

As indeed the first one did

The waves crash endlessly
But below them it is calm
The waters are cool and dark
Engulfing and indifferent
Hiding innumerable iniquities
And holding them close
Until the world is all but sterile

The sun has faded
Yet another one rises
The stars bleed out
Dripping down and running
From stagnant constellations
All order has in the end
Birthed an orderless chaos
Soon also in the coming age
Will this endless chaos
Lead to unbreakable order
Thus it is and has always been
Since long before any mortal eyes
Saw a shimmer of light
Reflect within them

The sky is overcast today
I feel as though it’s an omen
Of what I am not certain
But it will remain
In the back of my mind
Until I self fulfill
The prophecy I set for myself

Village burn in eyes of gold
A child's hand but not to hold
The cruel desire of a soulless thing
To find a bird and clip its wing
A pet, a toy and nothing more
Used and left as all before
To repeat the cycle if indeed they can
Or waste away to bones and sand

The sun glossed spires
The turn tide seas
The melting skies
The towering trees


Long lost land
Past to myth and lore
Where sun doth sleep
And moon no more

Despite the worm eaten pages of the book
The hang drawn images still held my awe
Though I could not read the text
The illustrations drew me into a world
A dark one much like my own

Adorned on those pages
Were thirteen figures dressed in black
But the images gave them no evil connotation
As auras of a pale white light
emanated from the cloaked beings

In dark and dizzying chasms it showed them
Evidently searching for something
But one by one through their journey
They fell up to the darkness
Never as themselves seen again

Though their loses great
They carried on until but three of them remained
Sensing their imminent doom
Preformed a dazzling rite
Though what its effects were I couldn't say

The final half molded page of the book
shows those there figures sitting as stones
Down in that abysmal place
Far below some long forgotten city
To the far northern wastes past the plains

No one believed such tales as this
Many disregarded them wholly
Not even giving it the title of fairy tale
As they said "At least a fairy tale
Has a moral or lesson to learn"

But I treasured the worn old book
And it resonated with me
In a way I don't fully understand
I often find myself wondering
Where those thirteen lie buried

Perhaps waking or dead
Below the surface of the earth

False screen
Show to me
Show my dream
What can't be

Build me up
Then tear me down
Spin my mind
All around

Then turn off
Look to the sky
Accept my fate
Not the lie

Rising up
Wipe away a tear
Must be strong
For those held dear

This place had met annihilation
How long ago none could say
But it's ruins yet stood
Among the hills and forest valleys

I walked among such ruins
Since I was young
Yearning for the sights and sounds
This walls held in their prime

The craftmanship was unparalleled
Gorgeous even in destruction
The inscriptions on pillars
Beckoned me as if alive

I could never read them
For I knew not that old language
The language of a lost empire
That rose in distant ages

In my latter years I now shudder
Having studied that ancient tongue
And recalling the passages
Engraved upon those marbled archways

They spoke not of great conquests
Or kings and heroes of old
No they served only as warnings
For the generations to come

The penultimate inscription
That lay upon the palace walls
So important it was inlayed
With obsidian and gold, read thusly;

"No Utopia may exist upon this Earth.
The perfection of man is a troubled one,
Doomed from its inception.
Man seeks to put forth into the world
What does not reside within him,
And so he corrupts the world
And himself in the process.

Oh how little you know,
Son of the Second Moon.
When..."

Beneath the etchings I remember
The bones of four men
About them lay rusted chisels
And other carving tools

I noticed as well, that the inscription
Appeared unfinished
As if the engraver was stopped
Forcibly before his work was done

I reached out to touch the groove
The final character never filled
With the obsidian and gold inlay
It was colder than stone should be

But that is all I remember
As I appeared to have passed out
And woken up with the gentle sun
The following morning

Ancient rocks and ice
Swirl around a lonely giant
As a distant young sun
Reflects its brilliance on their surfaces

They will continue in their motion
Long after we pass by
It saddens me
That I will never see them again

Or watch them spin
Endlessly against the void

She's waiting for me there
Lovely as always
A warm afternoon glow
Adorns her patient face

The scent of summer berries
Faintly reaches out
From her long silky hair
Carried by a gentle breeze

Sometimes I think I smell it
Though I know she is far away
Making me all the more eager
To find that hidden place

Where she patiently waits
For me to one day find her

Oh, the darkness
And there does it lie
Ever in waiting
Below a dead sky
Patient, expectant
Of light's long return
That it might receed
And the earth again turn
For darkness revels
Most in the day
As haunting shadows
That follow our way

Bathed in morning gold
The peaks and forests old
A gentle breeze blows through
The pines and ancient yews
Mountain spring and flowers
Sweet scent of the dawn hours
The waking world and her song
Forgotten again before long

My head is filled,
With books and tv shows
Depicting true love;
Something I've never known.

I often wonder
How exaggerated they are,
How much of it is real,
And how much they take too far.

Are the perfect scenarios
Just not presented to me?
Is my one and only love
Really out there to see?

Or does waiting for perfection
Just make me more resentful?
Is true love much more real;
More organic and accidental?

And though I don't know the answer,
I keep myself reading on.
Hoping somewhere in that perfect love,
I can find what I'm doing wrong.

Little circles of light
Dull orange and white
Through the screen and glass
On a calm rainy night

Soft hands on rough soles
Thinking with no goals
Perhaps somewhere out there
My future will unfold

In the soft rain of untouched dreams

The rivers are frozen
And have been for an age
She walks their lonely banks
Unaffected by the permafrost air
The world is rigid and brittle
Trapped in an endless winter
None are found that once were
Hibernating or passed on entirely
Beyond this glittering sterile realm
She sings a soft melody
Confidently carried
Across the rivers of ice
The frozen forests
And the quiet mountains
Blanketed in fresh snow
The song reaches no one
For there is no one
And nothing for it to reach
Yet she hopeful prays one day
It may perk the ears
Of an unlikely guest

Stone chipped and worn
Damage and years hidden
Blanketed by moss
A covering of tranquility  
Beneath shade and root  
Neither day or night
Have much difference
So deep down and within  
Floors upon ceilings
Canopy over canopy
New life from old
Ever sprouting and breaking
A Comforting perpetuity
Here I will rest for a while
While long ages pass
As though they were but dreams

The dust flows across the ashen plains
Since ancient times has it ever blown
From the far off lands beyond
Where neither light of sun or moon
Pierces the primordial fog

Ever have the silent wanderers
Traveled in their great pilgrimage
Across the enduring heights
To reach that solemn place
Where the lord of pyrestone lies

Upon that path do the spirits also walk
Never more than a wisp of etheric light
Mourning the lost souls below
Who without their mortality
May never return to the living

When dreams may return to that land
The ancient bells shall toll
Off in distant towers never constructed
And when they resound in the deep
Those of the pyre may rise once more

From their tombs of cinder and ash

Who am I but one unknown
The path for me was never shown
The moon went dark and stars fell down
And laid in the sea ten twisted crowns

Beneath that crown were seven heads
Heroes I'd known living and dead
They rose up and spoke my name
Cured the sick and healed the lame

Yet in their words so sound and sweet
I came to know of their defeat
Another alike to them did rise
Not from the sea or from the skies

A second saint lauding the first
He fed the poor and quenched their thirst
His words too despite his deeds
Did not fulfill my longing needs

Neither from the sea or wild earth
Will the One to come show his worth
No, He will descend from the sky above
With justice, wrath, great power and love

Though I thought He had already come
I was made deaf, blind and dumb
It's not my fault, I never knew
Or maybe I did not want to

I've seen memories waft past me
Distant dreams of bygone eras
Words and thoughts preserved
Of languages long since lost
Their sound and use forgotten
Yet their meaning somehow retained
A faint feeling, a tearful sentiment
I fear, no I know I will share their fate
As all generations do since creation
Few if any have escaped this death
Though which death it is I cannot say
The death of the mind or soul
Or perhaps simply the body
I know our ruined cities
Will house the bright eyed souls
Of our posterity

Let us pray if we cannot solve the riddle of being
That we may pass down what we know
And preserve the progress we have made

That one day we might find God

To the northeast and beyond
On the very edges of the glistening shores
A shattered forest of stump and splinter
Cracked and smoldering, as if for all time
Yet that disastrous event which stripped the land
Has yet to ever occur


There is no record of wildfire
No meteor shower from the summer night sky
No overturned lantern or lightning strike
Nothing has ever happened here
For as long as things have been recorded
And our generations have run


But still the forest smokes
The ground tucked in below a blanket of ash
The few remaining trees are sickly and charred
Yet never do they fall or die
And never do new trees sprout
Despite the fertile ground rich in minerals


No it was not long ago
That the forest burned and the earth was scarred
Nor was it recently so
We know truly that it was ages from now
In an unspeakable sector of posterity
A forgotten year that is yet to be


In the far distant future this forest burns
And the land is laid bare before us
The event echoes back to us
A warning a premonition
Of dread and fearful things to come
But alas it is only a premonition

The waters stagnate
From clear to green to black

Ink like and thick
I stare into them

They foam and froth
But it amounts to nothing

A purity emanates
From the black liquid

It is pristine now
No debris floats its surface

No solids or oils
Cloud its perfection

I crouch to get a closer look
I’m excited to observe it

I am eager but calm
I am relaxed and empty

I am a receptacle
For this pure water

Dark and sweet
But only for now

For a times, time
And half a time

I will wait here
By the stagnant water

The water that is called pure
And I will dream

I will dream and I will speak
To one that I have known

And in my dreams awake
No longer a vessel

But whole

The machines dreamed of distant futures
Far off realities that yet may come
But the future that came to be
Was one they never could have predicted

And thus they now lie dormant
Within the great gulfs
Among the black ashes
And the bones of their makers

I haven’t been home
But I’m on my way
I’m not selfless enough
But I try, I pray
And I know there’s One
Who feels my strife
Who stood in my place
And gave his life

But I haven’t seen him
Since a long time ago
Though he’s here
Yeah, I know
And I’ve been sick
We all are now
Sometimes I can’t wait
To take my bow

From this play we’re in
But that ain’t right
I know I have to
Stay and fight
Because there’s something good
Left worth fighting for
A brilliant light
On a distant shore

A place, a state of mind or more
That paradise we lost before
So I’ll pick myself up
With a helping hand
And head on back
To the promised land

The machine calls out
From the depths of that valley
Long ago a smoldering crater
Now a thick selcouth jungle
Untouched by the hands of men

There are some who can hear it
A faint yet constant murmur
Something wholly foreign
Beckoning them further
Into that primordial place

The whispers of a resurgent god

Colossus stone
On the ancient cliffs
Lone watchtower
Of the ocean mists

The tidal bastion
To safeguard and keep
The last light safe
From the yawning deep

Quiet water Valkyrie
Foaming waves and crashing sea
Too many dead wash up to shore
Four hundred days and twenty more

Husks of vessels, driftwood boat
Memories sink, but bodies float
The sun rises, solemn and red
Mounring those, who now are dead

And with the sun does that valkyrie cry
With broken wing unfit to fly
Cursed eternal to witness death
Until man draws his last breath

Quol Del-Amonroth
Of mist and slumberstone
The stars guide me to you
Though you I've never known

And though you are but shadow
Your days of glory past,
I feel that if I find you
I'll claim what I now lack

So silver sun and blazing moon
Guide my feet that I may soon
Stand before those hallowed gates
Where once I stood in sleeping state

To enter in, for none have tried
Since long before the Earth had died
Now in that sleep beyond all death
Awake again that I might rest

"Don't strive to know everything,
because everything has a habit of changing more often than you would think."

-Hadrian Veska

I faded off into the night
Long before the sun ever set