As Kate and Ann
make mine gravity in Peter Pan
and giddy with **** nigh go up and
down upon his leaf

so even now at dine
ise ready for a steeplechase that really rock thine
essence whom fill or slam such gore making sure homeward
with sound of a steal magnolia only there a tower serenade

Sorrow was strolling
a chill-bitten road
humming a tune,
as he passed an abode

that was lit by a furnace;
shadows danced in the glow
that the furnace cast
upon the frosted window.

Sorrow stopped for a time
to glance at the light,
then began reminiscing
to a long-ago night:

delicate child
prancing lightly around
a rain-beaten cove,
not a tear to be found.

This child bearing joy
kicks puddles in cheer,
then sees a colorful frog
on a log that is near.

He sits by this frog
with intent in his stare,
then the frog speaks clearly
"Boy, you better beware."

Confused by the voice
that sent ripples along
the puddle he sat in,
like a prophetical song.

With a tilt to his head
the boy then replied,
"What an odd thing to say,
dear frog who is pied."

The frog was quick
to retort less than coy,
"Oh, you should understand
what is coming, dear boy:

a shadow will fall
from the blue sky above,
engulfing your sight
until it darkens your love.

It will then cast a shade
which will follow your life
through the rest of your days,
bearing continual strife."

The boy quivered his lip
and sat back with despair,
as he saw the sky gray
and felt the thickening air.

His days of laughter
and innocent play,
have been cruelly stolen
on his last childhood-day.

Suddenly the boy glanced
locking eyes with the man,
who still stood in the frost,
who was glancing again

at the house which shown shadows
of delight once before,
now sits darkened and frowning
with a dilapidated door.

Sorrow now covered
in crystalized thought,
brushes icicles away
of intricate wrought.

He returns to his travel
on that chill-bitten road,
humming a tune saying,
"Goodbye, sweet abode."

Admetus swallowed the sun.
His throat was raw, tongue heavy with words.
Words of praise, of worship,
but the sun refuted him.
His light was dimmed,
hidden by dirt and muck, things he chose.
He seemed more human than God,
and Admetus loved him for it.
Still, the sun shows affection by shining brightly.
He glinted off coins, off crown, off sparkling seas.
He crested the horizon, casting shadows.
He shone on Admetus,
illuminating,
reflecting the deep bronze of his skin,
the curve of his spine,
the length of his fingers,
the line of his waist,
the tip of his tongue as it passed his lips,
the shadow of hair on his jaw,
the ridge of his calf.
He seemed more God than human,
and the sun loved him for it.
He fought for Admetus,
gave him all he wanted,
and took what he too desired.
But still, the sun is eternal.
Man is finite.
The sun shone on Admetus for as long as he could,
longer than he should have,
stealing back time from the grasp of silver scissors.
But it was not enough.
And when Admetus’ time came,
the sun was dim.
The twilight fell upon the world,
and the darkness seemed to last for an eternity,
though it is not told in story or verse.
Admetus swallowed the sun,
his body warm,
his eyes bright,
his fingers spread.
And then the sun swallowed him whole.

Read the pages of ancient lore,
Where a creature lives in days of yore.
With violet, black, and silent wings
In the dark, a wretched thing.

Over bloodstained fields of dead men's flesh, 
Bringing forth the sting of death,
Silently soaring, with talons sharp
Quickly tearing the weak apart.

Who can stop it, strong and wise,
Seeing everything, with it's watchful eyes.
Never sastified, wanting more,
It's greed rotting it to the core.

Among the shadows it spends it's time
Plotting carefully within his mind
For the next time you come around,
 You'll try to scream, but won't make a sound.

He'll take what you have, to the very last straw,
Quickly and quietly as you watch in awe.
In the depths of your soul he deeply stares
You should be thankful if your life he spares 

He sees himself as full of power
Not knowing there will come an hour
At the time when no one else can hear
And the shadows he himself should fear.

For long ago, in days of yore, 
Within the pages of ancient lore
The dark became his haven, 
And he called himself The Raven

4/15/14

Trust me, trust no one
Darkness is the game
Lights off, will they come on?
Or will they stay the same?

You follow her down,
She runs, you fall
Pleasure is her only call

Echoed walls, cry aloud
She fails to hear them, anyhow
Why can't she see, see through the clouds?
She sails around them, even now
Visions of collisions come crashing through
Like a souring secret straight to you

Serpent searching for slithers of light
Split between what's wrong and right

She edited the evidence of perilous plights
Despite insight, she willed what the might

Still you followed into her crippling realm
Henceforth, her kingdom remains, bow down, all hair

There is more free space than matter
My zenith is far from touching land
A wing tipped by the ring of Saturn
The orb that many thought unmanned

My zenith is far from touching land
With a silken era of neon speed
The orb that many thought unmanned
The Guardians acknowledged their time of need

With a silken era of neon speed
A gaseous clash of friend and foe
The Guardians acknowledged their time of need
And songs of victory may never know