Winter's Tide

Icy water curls upon shores
Littered with mountains
Trying to bore
Into burly cliffs.
When the seasons come
And leave like wildfire
Beating drums,
Hope tends to turn to escape the ire
Of hateful gods.

The chilly wind ekes
Out the desire for warmth
Among the peasantry
Whilst the lords in their castles don furs;
All sit down by the hearth.
Warriors seek peace in winter,
As do the farmers, blacksmith and wives.
All creatures are bonded by this experience.

Demons curl upon the corners
Unclothed and smirking:
Worshippers of cold,
Truth and beauty.
"Winter is a time for cold to reign
And so the animals hide,
Disappearing from the true banes."
They break conviction,
Perception,
And with retribution,
Demons rise the flag of war.

Destruction runs rampant
Whilst peace is supreme;
And the ocean crashes upon mighty shores.
Waterfalls grow the backs of men
And nature's bounty
Is given not to those that would proclaim its rule,
But those that would share and prosper in it.


ISA

 

Love is Gone

You can see it.
It lies beyond the wall.
It comes towards you;
Wanting you wait for it to return
To be.

Love lies.
It deceives.
It hides.
Love is a poison.
It fools the mind
To try to define
An illusive quality.

Love is a drug.
You have it once,
You can't have enough.
Love is easy to give,
Hard to receive;
And in it
Even the lightest lines, (of effort)
Are heavy and green.
With rot,
Every day of absence kills
And maims another piece.
And another piece goes missing.

Do you wonder where 'it' went?
Do you wonder why you can't put it to a name?
If 'it' is true,
Where are you?
What are you
Without it?

ISA

This is the conclusion of the three part 'Love is {in} Time' series. I hope you enjoyed it.

Love is Here

Beauty is in the air.
Roses blue
And roses red
Hang gallantly upon the stair.
Yellow daisies,
Lilies of white
Loft lazily
Hight.
Cupid.

The swords and shields
Dance upon the parapets
While maidens sing lovingly down.
The bard kens every lover;
Requests be sent o'er now
For timeless moments;
And there stays desire
Desiring endless in the glades.

The lords mourning
Is left for the morrow,
And on this day,
Celebrations last till nightfall.
When the hour strikes thirteen
And the twenty fifth bell rings out,
The day will be over
As it never was;
Because celebration is just for now.

Ring the bell!
Ring it!
Celebrate!
Sing!
Celebrate!

ISA

Happy Valentines Day.

Love is Coming

To stand upon horizons
Left behind by other's falls
Is to see what's coming
Long before you break the walls.

If insanity is repetition,
Then the light waiting up ahead
Is an illusion;
Tearful renditions of hope.

Canst we expect the future
To feel good?
Canst we expect it to brew
Away the blue
Days,
To forget the lonely tidings?

Sunshine is coming.
The dawn is overhead.
Tomorrow is a new day.
Can't wake up everyday dead.

ISA

Left for (Four Words Start)

Empty.
Tired.
So...
Alone.

Beaten,
Left for dead
At the end of the Sidewalk.

Can't see the future;
No shining light
At the end of the orphanage.

Bullied.
Tired.
Can't.
Help.

Sleep
Walking.
Need
Help.

ISA

Charity Drive for Bullying. Please Donate.
 

Manticore's Justification

Monsters spun of silken thread
Are used like poppets
To cause fear and dread.
On broken wing following dobbin's marks,
Manticores hunt;
Horned monsters of mindless light, (and dark).

Words are liars,
Perception is dull,
When there're monsters around to weaken the hull.
The ship is rocking;
The matchstick ignites;
And all who fear are kept awake at night
With Terror's tales of blood and bone;
You'll never realize when the first stone's been thrown.

Tis the scared the manticores hunt,
Trumpeting approach upon horizon,
Upon horizon.
He hunts,
She listens
When every pyre runs in fear.

They sing a song for all who hear;
Questioned:
"They should have feared.
They should have feared.
They should have properly feared
And ran away."

ISA

Extol

Burning fire on a baited breath,
Eternal dreams from here to death,
The sorrow clinches;
Wrenches undefined
Upon wearied souls
And broken lines.

If I cease to dream
I'd cease to sorrow:
A fate despair'd
I cannot swallow.
If I cease to feel the last breath,
I'd break and turn
To death and wallow.

It's funny how I stay alive;
Waiting on dreams,
Waiting on power.
To control my destiny
I burn with need;
To sorrow I turn
To feel myself bleed.

ISA