The heavens mourned
in my stead love.
They railed and rent
in the deep knell of the thunder,
and the flashing light of the lightning
as it struck in all its fiery promise.
The gods themselves
wept my tears, my love.
Rivers upon rivers
from those fickle immortals,
for where they are,
they were moved.
Because I mourned you
I mourned you.
I mourned you,
But I was too far
from my eyes to weep.
Cut off from my arms
that I could not tear my
Closed off from my throat
so the world would never
hear the banshee in my wail.
For as my body mourned,
My soul sought you.
It reached out ,
to Hades Realms
if that was where you went.
why would you leave us here?
this body of mine and
So I could not weep
and I could not wail.
And so the heavens,
they mourned for me.
You undress me with your cold hands,
your breathing is shallow and cold against my skin.
Everything about you is cold,
when I know,
there is no love in your touch.
You want my body,
for a short while,
until your lust is sated.
Then you’ll have me gone until the next time your desire flares.
You whisper sweet nothings in my ear but I hear them from a corpse,
when I know,
there is no love in your voice.
You run your fingers through my hair
and sing me songs as I lie on your chest,
But to me, these are lifeless hands and tuneless songs,
for I know,
there is no love in your caress.
You feign affection so well, it makes my stomach turn,
I’m not a fool.
The butterflies in my stomach have dissolved into apathy,
I feel nothing, too.
Your ego is huge when you tell me I’ll never leave you,
but it seems,
you’ve learned nothing at all.
As the rain brings life in the spring
and the moon rules the tide,
as sure as the dawn,
it won’t be long ’til I’m gone.
You were Hades, keeping me in your skeleton grip,
in a loveless cycle of lust and disgust.
What you forgot, my dear, was that I was Medusa,
and the next time you look into my eyes and tell me,
in your cadaver’s voice,
from your dead, lying lips,
that you love me,
I’ll turn you to stone.
shadows in the morning mist
phantoms in the fog
echoes in the murky light
that bounce around the bog.
from the chasms in my mind
where darker creatures dwell.
i looked into the deep abyss
and caught a glimpse of Hell.
where winged angels fear to tread,
my dreams in twisted pose
descend with me to Hades' realm
where nothing ever grows.
except the fear i keep within
which never seems to sleep.
and this will grow in leaps and bounds
as lower down I creep.
but faith will rescue all despair.
the morning mist will rise.
the sun will drive the demons back
to darkness where they thrive.
the angels take me in their arms
and raise me from the grave.
the darkest places close again
and trees, in breezes wave.
dark though dreams can often be,
the dawn will ever rise.
i wear faith like armor
and see through his disguise.
the Devil, ever vigilant,
invades when i am weak.
even if i'm innocent,
my fall he'll always seek.
I refuse to be
I escape brooding moods
And the reflections of souls dead to you
To accept a pomegranate seed or two
From the underworld was a mistake
I will not pay for
And I do not expect anyone to save me
I cry that your world is so dark
you believe the light inside me is deception
the seasons will come around again
and I will not return
your soil is too damp and oppressive
for any healthy sprout to grow
and your richness and grandeur
too gloomily cast
Familiar with the voice of dismal
I will not be restrained
I will not be abducted
I will not be compliant
I will not forget my life in the sun
I will not be isolated
I will not be afraid of gathering flowers
The underworld calls
I seek entrance to that invisible realm
The ferryman waves
I saved my coins, but he says my coins are no good in his world, so
He tells me to wait
I hear whispers
The ferryman laughs and the turning waters summon me
I pay the ferryman
The underworld calls
Her soft pale goddess skin
Had not been sun kissed
In six harsh months
While earth above
Also suffered much
Demeter’s sorrow was shared
By godly men
A starving child
Ate one pomegranate
Now her captor demanded
She must suffer in this hellish cave
It’s always the gods
That come up with
The strangest harshest ways
The flames soared high
Above the broken city-
Troy sodden by war
Necks cut, women raped, children
Enslaved. The sea mirroring
The city’s pain, screaming waves
Piling on the shore.
In the dust lay
The groaning towers of Iliam
Shards of a brilliant culture
Felled and fouled
Around the moping Cypress
While Achilles moans in Hades
Weeping unwashed tears
For his body's fading
And his shadows continuance
In eternal gloom.
What is love?
Sweet nectar on poisoned lips;
Or ripened fruit on curious tongues.
Is love sealed with a righteous kiss;
Or is love selfish and stealing,
Hidden away for all to miss.
Does love see no bounds or limitations?
In awe of you; of your beauty.
Is love a relentless invasion?
On a four horsed chariot poisoned with cruelty.
Will love die for you; with you,
Take your last embrace.
Or will love trick you; take you,
To end the long, lonely chase.
When all is said and all is done;
pomegranate and poison are both written in fame;
Sweet and bitter,
But love all the same.
Through the fields of stars and through the black forest,
And always West, trailing behind them a glowing disk,
With their frizzy coats and gnarling smiles; the heroes try to kill them with meteors.
Scattered shards of stone-fire bits, and the ashen paw prints evading it,
…and the horse shines upon Lykaon’s grave.
Howling are the wolves of Phanes, their number growling with the rains.
And matching windy howling screams, with hoots and hollers inbetween…
The great horns point at the wolven den, from which Fenrir’s gaze sees all man’s sin.
And the flames of Cerberus lick the hori-zon;
…as he descends into Hell’s cave,
And the Drakon hungry for lycanthropes, he hunts the plains of Hades;
But the cunning beasts avoid him while calling out to the moon, over their master’s grave.
Calling out over Lykaon’s grave,
Cyclopean-cotton collects, a smoking pillar covering guide. Obscuring the light and now they are vexed, as the Lykos struck down, they have died.
And their flesh is what the Drakon does crave, as they are devoured on the stones of Lykaon’s grave,
…at that place known as Lykaon’s grave,
Struck down with asters
over Lykaon’s grave.
Wyrd-wolven stars at night
…over Lykaon’s grave,
A werewolf at,
To the cave,
And that King,
…who stands before Lykaon’s grave.
Bleak is the mourning dawn of love,
the sky is red with tears.
Some day you will rise from the ashes,
Oh! Aphrodite of the Underworld,
sweet Persephone. The French call
it 'the little death.'
I call it the eternal one.
Never will I drink the sweet nectar
of death again, without tasting you there.
How rude of you. Hades! To keep me
Bound to the sunlight for six months,
when all I crave is darkness.
I want to crawl inside your skin
and eat you from the outside in.
Like a devout maggot on your corpse,
devoted to your decay.