A man whose name was carved in stone,
his bloodlust - a mountain, unknown - the peak.
The wolf dyed deep into his very bone,
to each theatre of war does he seek.
Each emperor becomes a trade,
barter gold, purchase steel, sell red.
Battlefields become eternal, bodies soon fade,
a tribute to vultures with unending dead.

Strew flowers in wake of chains,
bow before a once hated king,
catch a glimpse atop battlements.
A trusted solider without reigns,
loyalty in his eyes – a sin,
past bonds only exist as remnants

Watching as all of daylight dies,
a gentle smile hiding a ****** knife,
come and look upon the lord of the flies.

Everyone fell deaf to the hundreds of cries,
the vast oceans filled with turmoil and strife,
watching as all of daylight dies.

A tender kiss for you who spreads rabies,
you who keeps the dead children safe,
come and look upon the lord of the flies.

We celebrate your clear abnormalities,
you who relished burning down that café,
watching as all of daylight dies.

Why should we care for a family of nobodies?
Who received an early trip to the afterlife,
come look upon the lord of the flies.

We watch you, casting away tragedies,
smiling at how you, the simple farmwife,
watching as all of daylight dies.
Come and look upon the lord of the flies.

She wore shells from her ears, sprinkled in sand,
diamonds for eyes, and dressed in sheets of silk,
kissing the air below her as she stepped through
the blackened waters of the nearby pond.

The novel in my hands slid from my grasp,
the pages that were once dyed the colour of milk
quickly moulted into grey ghosts. The adventures
of the brave captain sunk to the bottom of the pond.

Ruby nails with a shimmering glaze caressed the
morning sun, with eyes that that borrowed the silver
edge of the moon. With a smile that promised untold
wonders, she slowly carved her way through the pond.

All questions and queries vanished from my mind,
the divine tone of her skin making my heart quiver.
It is only when I had the courage to look at her reflection
did I realise that something inhuman was standing in my pond.  

Even through screams, I was still dazzled by her grace,
the way she tore through flesh making my bones shiver.
Crimson pools trickled along the stone floor, a gritty reminder
to all about the foolish poet who had broken his bond.

Out of darkness, crept the little white mouse,
whose beady eyes did squint in the sunlight.
Across the blood red savannah did it crawl,
only to stop in the presence of a giant shadow.
With fear flowing through its little red heart,
it gazed up at the frame of the mighty elephant.

None was more feared than the mighty elephant,
none feared it more than the little white mouse,
who was smaller than the elephant’s own heart.
It stood tall and proud under the blistering sunlight,
casting across the savannah its menacing shadow,
the sun’s eternal gaze forcing the dark to crawl.

Petrified, it could no longer find the will to crawl,
peering up in fear at the large grey elephant,
who was content to simply cast its large shadow,
the dense dark swallowing the little white mouse,
darkness so dense it could withstand the sunlight.
Nothing pounded faster than the mouse’s heart.

Loud and heavy was the elephant’s heart,
its design meant that it had no need to crawl,
just as it soaked in all of the leftover sunlight.
There was nothing to fear, not for the elephant.
That was when its grey eyes looked at the mouse,
a little white mouse that was standing in its shadow.

It was so small, like it was swimming in its shadow,
yet for some strange reason it sent fear through its heart,
nothing else filled it with more dread that the mouse,
it suddenly wanted to fall to the savannah floor and crawl
away from such a beast that would terrify an elephant,
a beast that cannot be touched even by the sunlight.

The elephant stood frozen, cold as ice, even in the sunlight.
Beady eyes stared up as it floated amongst its shadow,
every twitch of its nose sent fear through the elephant,
every blink caused absolute terror to enter its heart.
How could this be? It was so small and reduced to a crawl,
yet the mighty elephant was terrified of the little mouse.

The elephant shrieks, and flees into the sunlight.
The mouse scuttles forward, listening to its beating heart.
No need to crawl, just to cast a shadow.

Across the ocean of mud, it gallops with grace.
Over the silent moors, a majestic leap.
Through forests of mist, it sniffs the proud earth.
A flash of orange, a shroud of fur, weaving
though the unfamiliar grass as if it were a dance.

Grey encircles my damp shoes;
morning dew fades under bleak sunshine.
A glimpse of the orange flash,
that which is shrouded in fur.
The dance comes to a halt, pale eyes gleam.

Gallant shadow, child of trees, a messenger.
Flesh and blood carved in amber.
It gazes for a moment, before dashing into vapour.
Its presence dies, and all becomes still once more.  
Mist hangs above the garden like a noose.

I watch, wonder. Stupefied.
The monkjack dances in the dark.

Two black buttons, eagerly
looking up at the biscuit tin.
Wool pulled over the still frame,
a smudge of leather at the tip.
(Is he going to just stand there?)

Over thirty miners in white suits,
hammering away at fleshy caverns.
They remain silent as they toil,
it’s the cavern that does the singing.
(What did he do to my favourite stick?)

Solid ink encased in damp cloth,
imprinting mud upon the marble.
A carrier of the rain, a little black
wind that decorates with dirt.
(Would it help if I rolled over?)

An actor at heart, her feigning of
innocence deserving of an award.
She looks up, head at an angle,
a face full of sympathetic mysteries.
(Silly pet, still doesn’t know how to fetch)

Pick a card, any card;
let’s see if fortune is on your side tonight.

The first hand is dealt,
the red king upon his throne of paper.

Lay down your savings,
the black queen hands out dead flowers.

Another round is set up,
your new friend jack is eager to play again.

An unreadable face,
so many hearts just waiting to be broken.

The truth or a bluff,
the clubs aren’t really that fussed.

Dancing with lady luck,
diamonds shimmer in pools of crimson.

Empires of paper and ink,
a growing hunger for the ace of spades.

A sleight of hand,
a prison of endless numbers and shapes.

Your luck runs out,
the joker slaps you on the back and laughs.