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Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
RandleFunk Apr 2021
Beneath a monstrous maelstrom
enshrouded with creeping dread
lightning lashes looming cliffs
where heroes fear to tread

Climb jagged razor pinnacles
past petrified forms unseen
emerge to slithering swamplands
where eyes of hidden things gleam

Across a tortured rockscape
to a yawning crumbling chasm
under a shaft of silver moonlight
stands a tree of pure phantasm

Recalcitrant to natural order
Illusive to the careless eye
Its fruits veined with venom
flesh consumed to death defy

At the gnarled writhing roots
past selves wander infernally
unrecognised they ensnare your fate -
Imprisoned in bark for eternity
RandleFunk Mar 2021
They sang beneath the gardens
basked in Babylon’s balming glow
Laughed in the light of Carthage
before the salt was sowed
Take some small comfort
from antiquity’s thread spun
For just before the sunset
they danced in Byzantium
RandleFunk Mar 2021
ᗪᗩᖇK ᕼᑌᑎTEᖇ, I ᖴEEᒪ YOᑌᖇ ᗷᖇEᗩTᕼ
Oᑎ TᕼE ᕼᗩIᖇᔕ Oᑎ TᕼE ᗷᗩᑕK Oᖴ ᗰY ᕼEᗩᗪ
YOᑌ ᑕᗩᑌGᕼT ᗰY ᔕᑕEᑎT Iᑎ TᕼE ᗯIᑎᗪ
‘ᑕᖇOᔕᔕ TᕼE ᗰOOᖇᔕ I ᖴᖇᗩᑎTIᑕᗩᒪᒪY ᖴᒪEᗪ

YOᑌ ᔕTᗩᒪK ᗰY EᗰᑭTY ᗯᗩKIᑎG ᗪᖇEᗩᗰᔕ
ᗪᖇIᐯE ᗰE TOᗯᗩᖇᗪᔕ YOᑌᖇ ᒪᗩIᖇ
TᕼEᖇE YOᑌ ᒪᑌᖇK, ᗩ ᔕᕼᗩᑭEᒪEᔕᔕ ᖴOᖇᗰ
I ᗰOᑌTᕼ ᗩ ᔕIᒪEᑎT ᑭᖇᗩYEᖇ

TOO ᒪᗩTE I ᔕEᑎᔕE YOᑌ TEᑎᔕIᑎG
ᑭOIᔕEᗪ TO TᗯIᔕT ᗩᑎᗪ ᔕTᖇIKE
TᕼE ᔕᑌᑎ ᗷᒪOTTEᗪ ᗷY YOᑌᖇ ᑕᒪOᗩK
ᗩᔕ YOᑌᖇ ᔕIᒪᕼOᑌETTE ᕼᑌᖇᒪᔕ ITᔕ ᔕᑭIKE

ᗩ ᒪOOK Iᑎ TᕼE EYEᔕ Oᖴ OTᕼEᖇᔕ
ᒪIKE ᗩᑎ IᑎᗪEᒪIᗷᒪE ᑭᗩᔕᔕᑭOᖇT ᔕTᗩᗰᑭ
TEᒪᒪᔕ ᗰE TᕼEY’ᐯE ᗷEEᑎ ᕼEᖇE ᗩᒪᔕO
Iᑎ TᕼE ᑕOᒪᗪ ᗩᑎᗪ TᕼE ᔕTEᑎᑕᕼ ᗩᑎᗪ TᕼE ᗪᗩᗰᑭ

I ᗩᗯᗩKE ᗩᒪOᑎE Iᑎ TᕼE ᖴOᖇEᔕT
ᑕOᑎᐯIᑎᑕEᗪ TᕼᗩT I ᔕᑌᖇEᒪY ᖴEᒪᒪ
EᔕᑕᗩᑭE ᗩ GᑌT-ᗯᖇEᑎᑕᕼIᑎG IᒪᒪᑌᔕIOᑎ
Iᑎ TᕼIᔕ ᑭᒪᗩᑕE TᕼᗩT TᕼEY ᑕᗩᒪᒪ ᕼEᒪᒪ
RandleFunk Mar 2021
Ruthless little saviours
in palaces of tin
All the shiny things
but smiles paper thin

Instaperfect families
Seduced by style and fame
I wonder if the happiest
refuse to play the game
RandleFunk Mar 2021
Lost friends smile from sun-drenched dreams
beneath stone vaults and gnarled oak beams
we drink gold ale and roar with laughter
not thinking about what comes after
I awake with rue for those halcyon days
drifting bucolic in a long summer haze
RandleFunk Mar 2021
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎
𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍
𝙸𝚜 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢
𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚙 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢
𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎
𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚢
𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚠𝚎
𝚃𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚎
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