You sauntered up the shore,
onto the cliff- did you jump?
No, no, you were pushed; your mentality challenged?
We couldn't be sure.
You were pushed, he pushed you; Death.
The fall, was it delightfully terrifying?
It's not the fall that kills you- it's the landing.

Prickling thorns on a white rose;
it has been stained by Adonis' blood-
care for nectar, Highness?
I offer you my condolences and my adoration,
wouldn't you accompany me?

I practice magick, not theology, my apologies-
but I can assure that this cherub becomes a daemon at the pearly gates! Bring your silver spear, I am adorned with bronze!
I needn't worry, no deity awaits my presence, only Death; let us be reunited at last!

'Swine, O swine!' you cry, but why?

Our doom is inevitable, let us repent?

No, we are late, onwards!

A fire set amid the willows; O, they burn!
Father Sky, he cries;
Rain cannot put out the flames!
Can you fathom the forest in flames? Nor can I!
But still I cry, He still cries.

A composition that turns to ash in the crackling hearth; but now the crow cackles, how could you?

O, how cynical- trust is not an admirable virtue, not to you; trust is found on the opposing side, that of the adversary- the lascivious mind of humanity, what morals are held?

I ask too many questions, but answers, none to spare! I am left bereft, wondering! But I remain alone, cloaked- I cannot be hurt!

But of course, I needn't be invincible- I need only a watch; the abstraction of time cannot be comprehended, the rippling incoherent- where shall I go now?

Evoke the reflection, see only candor, you seldom cry- have you no shame?
I cannot console you as you engage in this feud- the mirth of your eyes clouded with smoke, can you see? But of course not!
You move, languid, with the wine in your skull- where is your chariot, maiden? Where is your shame?
Have you none? But of course not!
You shan't walk free, for you have succumbed so easily- and with what risk? Was it worth it? But of course not!
Gold embroidered in the finest silk caresses your *****, a veil hides your tears- but alas, your soul is raw and ragged- why has thee left it loft in the sea?
The vernal land smells of petrichor- the stream runs eager! Where have you gone, what have you done? Have you run, one of seven brides to be wed? Have you no shame? But of course not!
Shall we await your return? But of course not!

'O godmother, open your mind to me and tell me of your woe!'

'My dread spouse, he is to joust on the morrow's night; Death cannot accompany him, else I shall be left bereft!'

'O godmother, he is no longer a marauder; he shan't greet Death on the verdant hill where he shall joust,'

'My dread spouse, what will he suffer if he were to fail?'

'O godmother, ye of little faith! Your dread spouse shall joust with a fiery spirit,'

'My dread spouse, what would become of me if he survived, only gaiety!'

'O godmother, worry not, for he shall battle under a gibbous waning moon, a good omen surely!'

'My dread spouse, if he shall be pierced by an arrow whilst on his stallion, I shall weep to the moon!'

'O godmother, if his blood is to stain grass browned by heat, he will lay peacefully knowing his courage.'

Nowadays,
to be different
is wanted.
But why?
Why now?
Why do you take the name
of the minorities
and claim
to be one of them?
To take their limelight
when you have fought their battles?
Why?

I'm many things,
or so they say.
I love whomever,
they call me gay.
I believe in magick,
but that's not ordinary.
I'm always panicked,
but they say I'm crazy.
I was born a woman,
and so that's me;
On the lower tier
of our hierarchy.
So when you say may name,
do me the courtesy;
I'm not ashamed,
just let me be me.

The old floor creaks
as the people dance drunken shimmies
while they laugh mindlessly;
it's a shame, really.

They come to forget,
to drown their sorrows in mead, beer or wine
and seek relief;
Alas,
they forget the pleasure
as they dance into the night,
indulge in a forbidden chaste kiss,
it all perished from one's memory,
but not their reality.

The fiddle is played,
each pitch followed by a beat of clapping hands
and laughs of relief;
the tavern sings into the night
as near the fountain,
you and I
dance till midnight.

It's a soft,
chapped,
sensational rhythm;
I'd rather not stop,
I am insatiable.

We were all children,
after all,
we were so pure,
so very small,
we would walk
and we would crawl,
but now we're older,
so very tall.

When we were younger,
we'd always fear
feeling pain,
to feel a tear,
but nowadays
they're always here,
there is no melody
in the sobs we hear.

They're so ungrateful,
so terrible,
what must I do
to avoid these swines?

Compared
to my Fall from Heaven,
well,
that hurt far less
than falling in love
with you.

the wind blows grains of sand
hopping from the shore
before the waves swallow them whole
and the sea steals their souls.

I seldom swear
on anybody's name,
but never in vain,
as I cry to know,
for somebody's sake,
where are you?

I'm a tad too late
for one thing,
and time goes by fast
when you're older,
wiser,
and while I don't have much time,
I'm not too late
for the other.

I'll paint a picture
with you, right here,
by my side.

Humans nowadays,
they know not to cherish
simplicity,
caring only of more,
more,
more!
But how much
extravagance
can one have
before it's too much?

white hot flames
lick my skin;
brimstone, hot like molten metal,
caresses my feet,
burns my heel;
i will walk,
I won't stop,
not until i arrive
in hell.

When you awaken,
wipe the grime from your eyes
and squint to the sun,
start the day like you wanted to
yesterday.

Rules are only made to be broken
if they are set upon you
by a hypocrite.

Were we ever free,
with the boats carrying us unwillingly
over the sea?

Were we ever free,
whips splintering our backs,
slashed like cutting boards?

Were we ever free,
working until our knees gave out
for the fear of being punished by aristocracy?

Were we ever free,
knowing or not that we'd lose our children
to the hands of greedy men?

Were we ever free,
crying our eyes out, holding the hand of a corpse
asking it to speak?

Were we ever free,
will we ever be?

cigarette smoke & a bright sun,
you smell like cherry soda and leather,
you taste like tobacco and plum.

We will do anything together,
commit a crime together,
solve a puzzle together
die together.
If you jump
into the sea, from a cliff,
of course I would do the same
because we do everything together.

What a pity
it would be
if suddenly,
my smell would flee.

It would be awful
no to smell the breeze
as it carried the scent
of the cherry tree.

What a pity
it would be
if suddenly,
I hear no melody.

It would be bad,
an awful fear,
it would be sad
if I couldn't hear.

What a pity
it would be
if suddenly,
I couldn't feel.

It would be bad,
to lose my hands,
but for no longer
could I work.

What a pity
it would be
if suddenly,
I couldn't speak.

It would be awful
to lose my voice,
for I would no longer
have a choice.

What I pity
it would be
if suddenly,
I couldn't see.

I would be saddened
to lose my eyes,
but then again,
I wouldn't cry.

Every time I blink
a new world forms
behind my eyelids
like a screen,
like a dream,
so that,
temporarily,
I can escape.

Your laughter scares me
because I worry
that I will never here that chorus
again.

I've always loved the rain,
but the inconvenience of it
in this very moment
obscures my window.

I fell in love
just as you fell from Heaven;
I never wanted to fall,
and neither did you.
But here I am,
smitten,
and there's not much
I can do.

I never rebelled,
I would never yell,
all was well
until I fell.

We are like
the alpha centauri;
orbiting each other,
chasing,
in a universe we can call our own
amongst the stars.

Please,
but your mug on the coaster,
we wouldn't want the coffee
staining the oak.

They said
that you had played me
like a fiddle,
they said
that you had played me
like a pawn in chess.

Do you hold not
the value
of fidelity,
my love?

I'm merely a fraud
in the presence of true art,
a measly charlatan.
Alas, my aspirations
to acquire such pure talent
tells me that I may begin a fraud,
but I may earn fame later on.

"I will give you a choice, heads or tails?

I wonder why, at my death row, I pick the side of a coin?

"Tails."

The coin flips with the flick of the executioner's thumb and it flies through the air, an inexplicable suspense.

"It has landed on heads. Instead of a flogging with the Cat o'nine Tails, you shall receive a beheading."

I sigh, but this was inevitable. With my wrists burning from rope, I lay my head into the guillotine.

Foxglove, for insincerity.
Orange lilies, for hatred.
Geraniums, for stupidity.
Meadowsweet, for uselessness.
Carnations, for disappointment.

You planned this, didn't you?
I understand your loathing for me,
but your loathing for yourself
is amplified tenfold.

I will reincarnate
without dying,
I will cleanse my blood
of your poison,
I will birth
a clean,
wise soul
to replace the one
you tainted.

A huff and a puff,
tobacco smoke from a wooden pipe,
*** on the rocks in my left hand,
rather Victorian,
wouldn't you say?

In all the debris,
the black and white of the world,
I swear I'll do better,
I swear I'll sport colour.