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Blade Maiden Sep 2018
Radio Silence
in my head
in my bed
as I've met
many dark creatures
in my dreams
all in my dreams
so as it seems
This Radio Silence
is leaning over
I can't take cover
my thoughts they hover
around my dark-minded lover
ruins my eyesight
as I hide
in this shadowed light
and I abide
I abide
no care for pride
It's for the fool
the one that knows better
I rather drown in a pool
suffocating in words I drool
as I ascend
as my physics bend
blood-colored steam rises
my guilt finally liberalizes
Radio Silence
as I shout defiance
Radio Silence
as I speak of compliance
Radio Silence
a sort of reliance
when I lie in stillness
contemplating my wrongful illness
and ask for forgiveness
  Sep 2018 Blade Maiden
Edgar Allan Poe
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow—
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream:
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand—
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep
While I weep—while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
  Sep 2018 Blade Maiden
Pagan Paul
.
Snow drifts down
     laying a lawn cold sheet
across the frozen ground,
          creating art reliefs
like acid etching glass,
open space rolling and undulating,
in small hills and depressions,
     bedecked in a veil of white.
The silence is deafening,
quiet having been enjoyed
     and surpassed,
briefly punctuated by the call of a bird,
     A sharp whistle that shrieks
and attacks the silence.
The fresh smell of snowfall wafts up
     as it settles and glistens
in the light of silver moonbeams,
randomly peeping through clouds.
The taste of peace,
                     tranquility,
in the frigid air,
sends imagination soaring
from the desolation of isolation
to another time and place.
          The snow falls,
     falls,
in a relentless race for the ground,
               all is still,
               nothing stirs,
as the moor welcomes its quilt
and sleeps with a cold heart,
     dreaming,
                       of being kissed by the Sun.



© Pagan Paul (28/05/18)
.
Blade Maiden Sep 2018

You say
"that's dark, babe"
But I don't think it's dark enough
Only in the night my dreams take shape
waking up these days is getting tough

I'm conflicted
my life's been restricted
Dreams seem true
and life is twisted

And all my thoughts
are growing along rose arbours
pretty to look at and impaled by thorns
each of them dying the death of martyrs

Can you see now?
There's a terrible sadness
a kind of sorrow
Turning sanity into madness

Reality check is for the sane
Imagined a world more real
Thought it's all in vain
I spoke to the devil and made a deal

Soon all I'll do is sleep
dreaming of my life to be
still better than to weep
for what isn't meant for me
  Sep 2018 Blade Maiden
Brandon Conway
I grew up between bookends
with the holy word held between
one fell off the shelf with no amends
now the shelf is filled with words unseen

So I read of other options
now I question the thread
of these fairy tale adoptions
which have been so deeply embedded

Christian school, weekly church, prayers before bed
my childhood filled with these epic tales
of a guy who died and then rose from the dead
and if you don't believe, well, see you in hell

They are good stories, some even great
but that's all they really are
to live by them is to live a life castrate
burning bush and a man inside a whale, a little bizarre

I am not mad I grew up this way,
but now I live a life of questioning
of what's beyond the pearly gates
without all of the one sided lecturing
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