In the name of blood, for it is the source of life itself,
Plasma's crimson essence of liquid infusion, to the undead's
Pulsating heart.
Intravenously feeding cravings passion, through the carotid
Artery at the throat of humanity, thou'st not love, suffer
The pleasure indulge the pain, the out come shall be the same,
To be embraced by the black ebony arch angel of death,
Release thy darker side, let the instinctual behavior of the beast,
Know freedoms unshackling at last.
Become one of his sacred disciples, a creature of his dark dimension,
A kindred being, unto the legion of the night.
In the moon's elliptical light, shadows thus move from
Left to right, shifting as transparent figures, phantoms of
Illusions, taking winged flight, soaring on the currents
Of air mingling with their ancestral brethren, the vampire bat.
Run does not the lone wolf, along the side path next to man,
As we do so walk amongst them, yet never attempting to belong.
Oh are we not the a shunned, the accursed, by a God known
For his forgiveness, to love all living things under
Heaven, but for us this mightiest of lords, turns
His gaze away, not acknowledging our existence.
Our we not his lost sheep, missing from his flock, why
Does not this Sheppard seek this black lamb’s wool,
Is it too coarse for weaving's wheel, as it spins thus
And is it not said that he created all life within his image.
Nay I pray this vamperic prayer, why has he abandon
Us, the darker of his creations.
Behold the unascended, begging to enter beyond the gates
Of light, children of the lost are we, seeking a father blind
To his responsibility.
Harvesting, by the basic instincts given unto us,
Taking only what we need to survive, for this he has turned
Against us, and thus taking the light of day with him.
So my father of damnation's hell, has offered salvation's
Darker domain as a sheltering harbor of comfort, I will not
Abstain his patronage.
For I am the ashunned, living by the moonlight's haunting glow,
Yet yearning to see one last horizons sunset, but the Holy Father,
Hears not my humble vamperic prayer.
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 11:13 AM UTC
Hidden beauty resides not in the grace like charms
Of coy smiles
Painted across a gentle Madonnas face.
Nor is she vested within the chastened vows
Of saintly knights; encased Great-Helm:
Thus maketh the pale maidens meek pulse
To so fervently race!
She neither dwells in fair Michelangelos alabaster statues,
Or famed masterpieces hung upon hushed galleries
Hallowed walls.
Never does she proudly boast from-on-high
In lofty ivory towers,
Or brazenly shout across yawning grandiose marble halls!
For she will not be found in royal palaces,
Or sprawling estates of greatly lauded piles;
She is not to be found in ancient cathedrals -
Or exalted from their most sacred holy aisles!
She will not be found in hidden empires in brave new worlds
Frontiered by far flung foam washed shores;
Nor found prowling echoing dusty bank vaults -
If all the worlds bankers
Were to throw open all of their bolted cold steel doors!
For hidden beauty knows all the crafts and wisdoms
Of learned mens most subtle and tricky arts:
And cares not a jot, or gives a ****
For all the poets and their foolish sentimental hearts!
But.....
Perhaps she shyly glowers inside a sun struck morn -
Her stealing lips simmering upon the dew kissed dawn;
Perhaps she wantonly flirts alongside a babbling brook -
Where sweet Virgil, Her, for a Muse mistook;
Perhaps she frequents the flowery paths of verdant pasture -
With all their lush, vibrant, unassuming rapture;Perhaps you may find her in the dappled shades -
In and amongst the streaming glades;
Perhaps she traipses idly through heavens lights -
Of beached harvest moons and star tilted nights.
Or.....
Perhaps she briefly flickers across sizzling lightening strikes -
Accompanying thunderous cannonades of symphonic rolling might;
Perhaps she sometimes ignites the drifting tallgrass plains -
Glistening within fleeting rainbows blazing an arc over sparkling rains;
Perhaps she is in the gulf filled roar of stormy headlands -
Whose pounding seas smash and grind the sheering cliffs to sands;
Perhaps she burns across diamond ice in glacial mountains high -
Where frozen snows reach sharply upwards to rip open the azured sky;
Perhaps she slumbers in impenetrable greening forests deep -
Lain down with the hunted grey wolf...safe at last in contented sleep!
For.....
I am the glint rippling upon the gleam -
The tumbling cryptic flashing only partly seen;
I am the eternal flame that crackles in the grate -
The enigmatic indecipherable most profound innate;
I am the paradox within the intrigue -
That does so contrive but does not deceive;
I am the quantum within the curled up string -
The grain of truth from which all half-truths spring.
I am all these indefinable moments and much, much more...
which all of your befuddled senses are resigned to grapple with -
Whereupon to set such store!
So.....
Content yourself and make not the mistake
To assuredly set me aside to thus debate.
For i am beyond the conjectures of a mere mortal mind,
As by accidental-consequential reaction...i cannot be denied!
For "Hidden Beauty".....
Once freed from Pandoras box upon this spinning coil:
To fire and play upon your enchanted thoughts - and forever foil!!
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 4:39 PM UTC
Chasing mind, fleeting thought
Nothing gained, nothing brought
Sanity escaping, madness entrapping
Black and white, grey overlapping
Tension high, standards low
Too many thoughts, will overflow
No more anger, no more hate
No more peace, there is no fate
I cannot stand, run not crawl
I cannot speak, scream it all
Inside my shell, all alone
Insights deep, should have grown
Life is nothing, yet most precious
World is beautiful, yet most viscious
Lost forever, I shall fall
No way out, no hope at all
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 5:26 PM UTC
Wolves are howling
I'm crying
They are dieing
Because of some fool
He had a gun
Now I'm alone
With nothing but bodies and fur
I cry and lie right next to them
The wolves were my pack
Now they are no more
I can't sleep
I can't eat
I now want to howl at the moon
I keep searching for them
But the hunter got them all
Wolves are howling
But they aren't mine
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 5:24 PM UTC
To soar like an eagle "
" To float like a feather "
are just two ways I've heard people
say that love makes them feel
The times that I said " I love you "
I felt like a wolf seeing the moon
I feel like I have come from the darkness into the light of the moon
but could do no more...
I could see and feel it's light,
and yet...
never know it's touch or even its pure warmth
I merely know its affect on others
From where I was I could not reach it
but I could see the birds flying to it
Being so close to it and yet...
still to far.
Alas, all I could do was watch the others
See, feel, and absorb the light without me
Then when I look around and see no one
I finally understand,
I am truly alone......
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 5:20 PM UTC
Find moments when "you are not,"
and this are the moments, when for the first time
you will "really be"!
Accept whatever happens, and accept without any analysis!
Find out the way of your "Wolf's Soul" - where it flows,
and allow him freedom to move and drift.
Wherever you move, you will find the divine!
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 5:17 PM UTC
THE WOLF IS A MYSTERY
HIS COMING, HIS GOING - THE VERY BEING OF HIM
A WOLF EXISTS WITHOUT ANY ROOTS
HE EXIST AS A MYSTERY
YOU CANNOT FRUSTRATE A WOLF
BECAUSE WHEREVER HE REACHES IS THE GOAL
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 5:15 PM UTC
Silent paws trotting
on a well beaten trail,
alone in the wilderness,
so young and so frail.
Little yips go unanswered,
the moon is now his guide,
looking for ones just like him,
or have all of them just died?
He sniffs the dampened ground
and senses man everywhere,
the silence is deafening
no howls in the air.
Oh why did he venture
so far from his den,
while his pack fell silent
at the hands of men?
His stomach is growling
but the hunger he’ll endure,
his pack family is out there
it’s their blood he smells for sure.
He stops in his tracks
and raises his head up high,
the terror overwhelms him
as he lets out another cry.
But still there’s no answer
he can’t understand why,
he’ll follow their trail
or he surely will die.
For days now he’s traveled
his spirit and body gone weak,
he lies down in white clover
no more energy left to speak.
Soon the soul hovers
over this tiny, frail pup,
whose future now will be guarded
as his soul travels up.
What right does man have
to take life from a living thing,
that has no way to voice its defense
against a human being?
The wolf is a symbol,
a brother, a friend.
it’s time now for action
before his existence comes to an end.
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 5:13 PM UTC
So strong that I
would lift my head
and I would cry
For all the pain
and sorrows born
of all the wolves
that man has torn
From there ways
which God hath made
to fields of blood
where millions lay
Now for the wolf, I must say.
There's got to be a better way.
To live together here today.
For crimes of nature, we all pay...
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 5:10 PM UTC
Each day was an adventure,
The "three" would meet.
Whose to say if they had parents,
There was NO discipline.
The forest was made for running, hiding, playing, exploring and mischievous deeds.
We were wolves, a pack of childhood friends - bonded as family.
Full moon bright, stealing time before the sunlight,
Howling with shining eyes of color - blue, green and gold.
Only to grow up and disappear,
With one, loved silently and always searching for HER - barefooted.
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 5:08 PM UTC