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Anthony Smith Jun 2017
With locks the color of a raven she kneels,
To place before me a life lost.

For this is my realm
where I hold true,
to the life devoid of light.

And she is but one of many,
a servant like the rest.
Now she kneels where few have knelt before.

She lifts her head to meet my gaze,
and though it was in defiance, I cannot help but falter.

The loss in her eyes is that of the others,
yet into my soul her gaze has burrowed.

One has long since been lost to reside in this place,
some more so than others.

And though I know her name not,
nor her story have I heard,

I cannot look away as a single tear falls
and lands upon the life lost,

To land upon that Ebony Rose.
Anthony Smith Jun 2017
Here I kneel at the river's edge,
Gazing out at the life beyond the tear in my eye.

I can still see you sitting next to me by our log,
years ago when we shared our first picnic.

I'm remembering the way we used to run through these trees
and swim through those currents,

the scent of your jasmine perfume
following us wherever we go.

I can almost smell it now as I hang my head
and lay this bouquet upon your tear soaked resting place.
Anthony Smith Jun 2017
The darkest of skies
bring forth creatures of
inhumanity. From us they feed,
terror, sorrow, misery.

With their bottomless pits
that straddle the nose,
drawing us out, drinking us in. The
enchantment unbreakable.

Control is theirs alone, yes
they know. They hold the chips,
deciding out fates.
So we hide.

Yet from the screech of death
we cannot escape.
The sealing of ears does not suffice,
the horror penetrates the thickest of barriers.
Cowering, we wait

and watch the shadows
of these wing├ęd frights,
circling overhead in the hunt
to feed. Searching carefully
for a meal; for us. Until finally

the darkest of skies begin to lighten. The
damnedest of beings flee to their shelters,
fearing for their lives. And

should the young wake and see,
these creatures of death, would be to end
the airborne demons.

Fore it is the innocence of a child so small,
that they dare not corrupt.
Anthony Smith Jun 2017
The blazing sun beating down,
snowing no mercy.

The hills of sand hot to the touch,
no end in sight.

The cacti surrounding, growing stronger,
fairing much better than I.

The life within me growing faint
as I lay here dying, baking within,

The water in my canteen long since gone.
much like the moisture in me.

The end is here, my days are done,
this desert has brought me
sweet relief.
Anthony Smith Jun 2017
Whispering Shadows
Looming behind every corner,
Deadly Creatures
Waiting within.

Rivers of Blood
Flowing across wooden floors,
Forgotten Memories
Coming near.

Radiating Darkness
You are it's source.
Deadly Wishes
Seeking escape.

Excruciating Pain
Maintaining your sanity,
While Damning Forces
Battle within
Anthony Smith Jun 2017
A cloak of shadows worn,
A mask to cover all emotion,
to hide one's true self.

No one must know.
No one will know.

We are destined to live a life unseen.
Anthony Smith Jun 2017
Marching through the shadows
seeking shelter; vengeance.
For ourselves; For those who have betrayed us.

Marching through the shadows
lost within the void.
Inside this swamp; Inside our souls.

Marching through the shadows
looking for the light.
Of freedom; Of Peace.
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