💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

​

The Water Lily

​

The moon looked down and wept for love, 
with tears of silver sorrow,
as it beheld one lily fair,
that carelessly floated by.

​

It captivated heart and mind,
spinning sapphiric threads of reverie,
fervour filling that twilight abyss,
a pluck of limerence and ardour.

​

The moon did swear upon the night,
upon the tide of grace it swore,
an immortal declaration to the stars,
that all it loved, now never more.

​

​

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

​

Cailleach's Vision on the Battlefield

​

Curse of men, their paling eyes,
paltry desires in shallow hearts.
Bearer of hideous souls encased,
rotting in leather worn hide.

Moon changing, fading, rise and fall,
water beneath rushing ever towards. 
Clever wind whispers truth and deceit,
as the flame eats away blackened hearts.

Wicked wicked deceiver of fabricated truths,
broken blade to sever faithful hands.
Opaline tear shed on a cold milky cheek,
to convince all the grief is quite real.

Take feather and twig, bind them tight together,
plant deep in the fertile red soil of a field.
Hands covered in blood will mingle with dirt,
a monarch shadow concealed in the peat.

Sun rising, sun falling, the darkness will come.
Clouds lifting to charcoal burnt skies.
Clashing of steel and crushing of bone,
a cold crown grasped in bloody hands.

​

​

​

​

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💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

​

​

Mirth of the Wood

​

Mushroom spores in rays of light,
filter through the trees,
sweet whispers of the wilder things, 
that echo in the breeze.

Green moss covered ancient trunk,
feather falling high,
decaying leaves and weathered stone,
a soft wind the forest's sigh.

Sweet songs are sung from branches, 
the chorus a trickling stream,
green delirium succumbs to madness,
in this leafy woodland dream. 

​

​

​

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

 

Son of the Waves (Dylan Eil Ton)

​

Son of the ocean, son of the waves,
dark hair of shadows, raven wing eyes.
Kindness of honey, the sap of my heart,
stygian your fury, should ever we part.

Calm on the tide, a mischievous shore,
tempest your waters, that churn and do roar.
Sun feather your temptress, her locks are your heat,
yet trapped in saltwater, never shall you both meet.

Sombre brine spirits, your abyssal is strong,
roaming hadal paths, the journey is long.
Crystal your kingdom, within deep blue caves,
son of the ocean, son of the waves.

​

​

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

​

​

Úlfhrafn, son of Einar

​

​

I am Úlfhrafn, son of Einar, 
wolf-raven of the one who fights alone.
Dane axe of ice, my heart of stone, 
The sea, my destiny. The forest, my throne.

Jarl Fritjof desires the river lands,
of which we do not own.
He calls us to the other village, 
to kill and seize and pillage.

Beneath the ash, dreams call to me,
Yggdrasil, tree of life, tremors softly. 
It demands my uncle, the Jarl, to go,
by the will of my axe, blade or bow.

Odin calls us to battle, 
to die with an axe in hand.
A crimson sky has sealed my fate,
and a chance to live is now too late.

For the wind through the ash tree calls me,
and beckons me come near.
There Loki gives me a blade of steel,
this trickster whispers to turn my heel.

Red sunrise of the battle awaits,
but Jarl Fritjof will never rise again.
His thralls will find that he now lies,
with a dagger betwixt his pale blue eyes.

I am Jarl Úlfhrafn, son of Einar,
wolf-raven of the one who fights alone.
Dane axe of ice, my heart of stone,
My uncle's seat is now my throne.

​

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

 

The Shores of Élan Vital

​

Breadcrumbs laid out before me, soft dunes that meet the shore.
Lapping water dyed in blue, it whispers and it roars.
Traipsing onward through cracked shell and dead green jellyfish.
Before me is the path of life. I am humbled. I am ready.

The sky is blue. The sky is cloudy. The sky is turning grey.
A rumble sounds across the horizon. I feel alone, yet calm.
Endless is the moment as my spirit breathes in deep.
A spark of light to my delight. A lick of electricity flashes.

Cool timid breeze grows wilder and finally finds its voice.
A howling wind of tales and dreams. Of time before and behind.
Foamy water crashes hard and smacks the breadcrumbs into dough.
I turn and run. I have seen too much. I know it is time to go.

​

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

​

​

Love Foredoomed

​

Let me ride through the valley,
between oak and poplar,
wild like bushes of blackberry,
skittering free as the kingfisher.

I will follow the rushing riverbed, 
weaving through gnarled ancient trees, 
that creak and groan and whisper, 
concealing fennec, stag and hare.

Carefully I will tread, warily I will amble, 
‘til a deep stream I cannot pass, 
dismounting my mare with shaking hands, 
let me cross, I pray, let me cross.

I shall wade into the cloudy depths, 
the icy water climbing to my waist,
short breath of fear to hold my foot,
or be fatefully swept along the way.

On the riverbank you will find me,
please come before light fades,
deathly cold, white as a swan feather,
cry not my love, we are finally together.

​

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

 

Cernunnos

​

Moss covered rock, moist foliage, dense thicket.
Leafy forest of the wild hunt.
Spear in hand, swift step, heart beats.
Of death and life, the cycle repeats.

Horned god of primeval desire.
Unbridled passion of earthly delights.
Entwined in the sprig of virility.
Hedonistic urges and libertine desires.

Balanced with heart, his arm thrusts strong.
To pierce the beast before him.
Hunter of the wild. Master of the woodlands.
Lord of life and death.
 
Cernunnos.

​

​

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Prophet

​

Chaotic is the mind that refuses to relent.
Drowned is the spirit that refuses to repent...

​

​

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

​

Appetency

​

They dare not love yet their eyes betray.
Two silent beings who cannot say.

What the heart may feel, 
for it shall be concealed.

Only to be betrayed, 
once more,
by their eyes.

Revealed.

​

​

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

​

Nocturne

​

Beneath the weave of twilight, 
our dreary world stands still.
Of starry skies ruled by seraphim, 
their celestial tears lay scattered.

Past days now put to rest.

All out of reach now appears at hand.
All that was lost, now found.
A spark of hope bursts into flames,
burning brighter until the sun appears.

And once more the dream is done.

​

​

​

​

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

​

 

Red Goddess

​

Red goddess, the Waking Sea.

​

Her outstretched arms, my comfort. My chaotic mind, her bed.
Churlish was her nature that beauty excused in my partisan eyes.
Blue Goddess of calm tides. Red Goddess that perturbs the serenity.
My tempestuous lover that beguiles the pith of my adoration.

​

Red Goddess of my passion. I met a woman in the plains.
Her eyes were wild, her hair ablaze. A siren of my senses.

Oh! Woe betide.

​

​

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

​

​

Alba, my Scotland

​

 

Soil red, rich and deep. The bones of crag, peaks and deep rooted oak.
Cold foamy waters gallop furiously, dashing against the jagged rocks below.
I stand on the cliff, my dark hair blown back by the gale.
The love of my life, the place of my heart. Alba, we shall never part.

Dirk at my palm as I press the blade deep, 
crimson droplets trickle from the ledge, through the air and to the sea.
An nì a thig leis a’ghaoith, falbhaidh e leis an uisge.
What comes with the wind, will go with the water. 

The redcoats they come and have taken from me, 
my clan and of others, our homes stolen away. 
They call us now thieves as we live off our land.
Yet how can a thief steal from his very own hand?

A fish from the river. Breac à linne.
A staff from the wood. Slat à coille.
And a deer from the mountain. Is fiadh à fìreach.
Thefts no Gael was ever ashamed of. Mèirle às nach do ghabh gàidheal riamh nàire.

 

 

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

 

Of Fated Men

​

 

The cold blue ice sea rushing in, a tide comes forth that night.
Shivering in freezing water up to my calves, my chest wrapped in furs tight.
I yell out to the heavens, loud and clear 'Njörðr bring him home!'
My love at sea, not returned. Months with no vision in the tides white foam.

Dancing blue-black, purple and green, the sky rejoices on this night, 
as the gods celebrate in Asgard, dancing flames across expansive sky bright.
From trickles to waterfalls, screaming pools of radiance my tears become,
reflecting the magic weaved by the gods above, as they merge into one.

I am driftwood....I am driftwood, floating aimlessly close to the shore,
awaiting my other half as he journeys across the seas, that man that I adore.
I am Embla and he is Askr, formed by the trees and washed in the sea.
'Odin and Freyja,' I cry out 'on my ancestors blood, please hear me!

Surrounded in water, I stand and stare, hair dishevelled, wind blown.
For the seas are ne'er predictable and now my fate, and my loves, unknown.
'Goddess Rán,' I beg, 'do not claim him. Take but another, but let him be free.
Freyja, goddess of love, I beg of you bring my love back to me.'

​

 

 

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

 

The Murray

​

 

Savage beauty of raw red and green, river gum and silty sand.
Floating down the river, cool muddy water rushing against my fingers.
A dream scape of weathered wood, tall grass and laughing kookaburras.
Snake under a log, magpie in the tree, and a kangaroo by the billabong.

Drovers once pulled their swags out and looked up at the same stars.
Damper cooking in the fire, a billy of tea close at hand.
Of poets dreaming of former days and better days ahead.
Mosquito bites and cockatoos squawking as night ascends.

Hot summer days, baked mud on the land and cicadas chirping loud.
Darting lizards move under widow makers fallen from the storm.
A tuft of grass, broken glass and the smell of barbecuing in the air.
Music from tired speakers play loud across the endlessness of it all. 

The largest river in the country holds a small piece of my heart.

​

 

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

 

 

The Other Side

 

This spirit, o’ spirit, it haunts me each night.
Beating flesh in my muscle, it taunts in delight.
This spirit, o’spirit, it teases and laughs.
I pray to God aid me, and hope but a chance

This spirit, o’spirit, each eve I try to flee.
Ravished thoughts, chilled temple, my mind a tempest of the sea
‘There is no one waiting for you,’ he taunted ‘on the other side ‘cept me, 
yet foolish are mortals and too ignorant to see.

To think in their disillusionment something better awaits. 
You will be disappointed my friend, oh yes yes, just you wait.’
‘Be gone, you foul creature,’ cried I ‘wicked soul that you are! 
For only the evil stay eternal, the gates of heaven cast you afar!’

‘Afar from what?’ the spirit delighted ‘From what am I kept? 
From the treasures of the afterlife? Or now, to face my regrets? 
‘Tis nothing I tell you, nothing at all! You trip, you falter, you die and you fall. 
That is what death is awaiting, hark my words, hear them all.’

‘So why stay here spirit,’ I pondered ‘why tell me these things so? 
If alone as you say you are? Why linger if not go? 
For you alone could travel, far high and long fro?
Fly and be gone, flee and just go!’

‘You live and you learn,’ explained the spirit ‘by the end you will see, 
to travel is pointless when there is nothing to achieve. 
No no, I will stay here in this maddening manor, 
causing mischief and mayhem, disaster and clamour.’

‘You are alone,’ replied I sadly ‘and I pity you so,
that is all I will offer, so I beg you now…go!’
‘Ah, but your silence in this house,’ replied the spirit ‘is all I need.’
'My isolation fills you with delight?’ I scoffed ‘Now how can that be?’

‘Well,’ chuckled the spirit ‘a mortal lives just the same.
Each night we sit by the embers of a dying pit of flame. 
Each night we retire to a dreary chamber, wishing the days by. 
And they do, ever so slowly, and then so quickly the years fly fast by. 

Before you know it,’ warned the spirit ‘you too will be dead, 
with the worm riddled ground to rest your sweet head. 
You will then watch them bury you, careless hand tossed with gravel. 
Your memory will fade, and cruelly your world will unravel. 

Then my dear friend, 
then you shall see,
there is nothing for you waiting on the other side,
…..nothing but me!’

​

​

 

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

 

 

​

 

A Spring's Lament

​

 

As I sat at my window on that spring day

I felt the pain of every man, of woman and child across the land

I felt their fears and dreams then die

I felt them wallow in misery as time passed by

I recalled many loves that were stolen away

From death and betrayal and careless idolitries

I felt the gravestone cold pressed against my cheek

As I listened for the beat of my loved one beneath

For all of this I felt it dear

Dear to me although so strange

For death it seemed had many names

Many faces and many games

Of all that was and now no more

I felt my life come to a draw

Of which I too would join that crowd

And fade beneath, rise to clouds

For nothing in this mortal realm

Could save me from my broken frame

My spirit dying, and I too crying

Trying to be free, or trying to remain

For all my struggles, the struggle was not mine

The decision had been made and I was to wait

Until that final heartbeat would resonate

 

 

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

 

 

The Abyss of Beautiful Chaos

 

 

I loved you wildly and in my unbridled passion I loved you blindly,

for you were the heat in my flesh, that burning desire.

I would spare nothing, do anything,

convincing myself this weakness revealed the strength of my love.

I desired you more than the food between my teeth, the air in my lungs,

to feel your presence were the tears of my soul.

I craved you desperately, perhaps foolishly?

In my defence I was never one to ignore the intensities of my affections.

They were capable of climbing the highest of peaks, sailing the roughest of waters,

stronger than stone, purer than flame.

Your madness was my delirium,

that bitter sweet insanity felt in each and every breath.

One small second that our eyes met,

fanned my fantasies into raging flames.

Indeed your power over me was terrifying and beautiful,

ravishing my senses, stealing my mind and replacing it with idolatry.

Such a nimble thief of my heart, I was never aware until it was all too late.

I did not desire your accomplishments as much as your failings,

desperately craving your darkest and savage hours.

A vessel to pour all your struggles, fears and doubt into,

which I would transform into better days.

Your eyes engulfed, your soul ensnared…

and I was completely in love with your beautiful chaos.

 

 

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

​

 

A Gentleman Mourns In Old London Town

​

 

Upon the lane way I drag my feet,
from the decrepit cracked cobblestone, to a frozen hearth.
The poor are desperate, the rich are cold.
Gnawed bones for broth, our tired flesh is weak.

The melancholy moon is weary this night,
dull in the sky as I trudge, steps heavy in remorse.
Within my head, shadows beckon me forth,
a spectator in this macabre theatre of life, a life that feels like hell.

I light one solitary candle in my dark abode,
in the vain hope its flicker will drive the darkness away. 
Cold taper, burning wick and melting wax,
the drip of mortality falls hard, and then cracks.

My love, I hear your beautiful whisper each night,
in hushed murmurs of memories, I fear to forget.
The cruel hand of death that stole you away,
leaves me cursing that thief, ruing the day.

By one molten flame, the hours painfully linger,
a new reality born, in my stubbornness I refute it.
Cold in the grave my loved one does lie,
desperately I pray that one day soon I shall die.

Chattering teeth, clenched jaw and clutched fist,
in my deluded childish state I swear things will change.
Each minute strikes slow as I finally realise,
the real terrors in life reside deep in my mind.

No more will warm memories fill this bleak house,
lost is the song of my hope, joy and legacy.
Forgotten are the flighty dreams that once I held dear,
on your last shaky breath, my sentiment was shattered.

Soon the unforgiving sun will rouse me of this night,
another day awaits for my withered heart to fatigue.
Faded reality, deluded serenity,
lovers entwined eternally in a lost and haunted embrace.

 

 

 

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

 

 

Tá Brón Orm Mo Grá (I am sorry my friend)

 

​

I am sorry my friend.
To have lost you this day.
My hand was not quick enough.
The blade was too fast.

Your blood fed the earth.
My screams filled the skies.
Washed blue with grey cloud.
The green isle's tears spilled over.

Placed in your tomb, keepsakes to carry.
Polished stone axe, for protection.
Whale bone pendant, for love.
Quartz crystals in pottery, for wealth.

May tomorrow be brighter.
May yesterday be forgotten.

Tá brón orm mo grá.
 

 

 

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

​

 

Red is the rose that my love grows for you.
Black is the night that my lies weave on through.
Red is the blood that I spill in your name.
Black is my soul when I tire of the game.

​

​

                                         - Amidst the Shadows, Chapter 6 (How The Fallen Rise Again)

 

 

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

​

​

Leeton's Lament

​

​

If I felt before I spoke

When all was lost

I am lost for words now

So gentle a face that you beheld

Stole those words from my lips

 

Heavy in the forest scent

Of wilder things and wilderness

Feeling thoughts I never shared

Never dreamed of, never dared

Quivering feats of splendid flurry

 

We often seek but never chance

When looking through, we look unto

The hidden truths we dare not show

Are shown to all when time draws near

 

Yet still I lack the words to say

As dreams pull me in, cast me away

So gentle a face that you beheld

Stole those words, from my lips

 

- The Shards Of Ruin (Chapter Seventy)

 

 

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

 

​

Lord Capricious

 

The clouds in our mind oft change like the weather
Oh damn that turbulent weather….

​

 

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

​

 

Stolen Away and Made to Stay

​

 

Decided by fate, two lovers entwined, too soon one then died.
A fair lass lay in polished walnut, mere sixteen inches wide.
Her other half, of bleeding heart, lay tears and roses down. 
Stretched out upon her final rest, he slept on upturned ground.

One destined lover doomed to love, whilst the other blissfully sleeps.
Each night the darkness engulfs his will, and bitterly he weeps.
A merry sun that dances high, now stumbles to a melancholic moon.
And all that grows and flourishes bright will wither all too soon.

In grief he vows never to love, he vows now never to linger.
Wilted stem and blacked thorn, he pricks his own small finger.
Laying down once more to rest, he shuts his disillusioned eyes.
Pale and languid once more he opens them, to bright blue morning skies.

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💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

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Take care when wandering about,
in the wilds of the valley and heights of jagged rock.
What a horrific garden of wonderland we have stumbled into; 
where a turn of one’s heel can lead to flowering jubilation, 
and another leads to the twisted and thorny thicket of despair....

 

- The Shards Of Ruin (Chapter One)