Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
~Bardic magistry
Woven unto
Sage & Seeress
Whose vision
Penetrates
The Temporal Expanse.

The Crowned of Epistemology
Reigns sovereign
Unfurled upon the Seven Seas,
The Firmaments,
And The Gaian Mother
Aeonic & venerable:

Dedicated to the
Sagacious, sapient, source of sonority;
Mine Matriarch Mavenette
Wielding wisdom
Pristine, amidst
The Chaos of Chthonic,
At times, adjacent,
NetherRealm:

Valhalla of the once Valiant Soul
Twas I
The Wound-Bearer;
Convalescing in Light
Of the Simulacrum of the Sun,
Until
Greater Eden arrives:

Through lore the soul is lifted unto heights once denied;
The onerous edicts of Gravity begotten to be defied.
We peregrinate this plane searching for Lovelit Life;
We depart in ascendency beckoned by the rapture of the Divine.

No soul knows all, yet by lore, we come to rise, rise
In our excellency sired by the Empyrean Sublime.
By the exhalation of our Exodus we ne’er know how to fly,
Yet the Wings of Phantasmagoria are bestowed upon the Wise.

Let reverie propel you eternally into the Baptistery of the Sun,
for His love is infinite, His light needs ne’er be won.
The Ages are ephemeral & the Zeitgeist like Winds of Time:
Yet the Sciential is forever & wisdom transcends time.

Know that there is more than seen with the eyes;
In this boundless cosmos, precepts are meant to be defied:
Make history therefore of thine bygone days,
For the unborn waxeth thine present: a time-transcending sage.

O, She is the Millennial Maven
Transcending Space & Time
Rising through the Exosphere; Excelling Ether
into Mind’s Fire.

O, She is the Sage of Dreamscapes, Summoning
Luminaries unto Gaia:
That the Wisdom of the Ancients
Illuminate Orbis Terrae.

O, the Impossible is Possible,
Through Amazonians such as thee,
Waging Warfare through Wisdom
That her Clansman might live free.

O, Rapture in a Zephyr
(Aromatic & Fragrant Winds)
She harnesses the Tempest of Futility, that
Ineffable splendor is borne in stead.

O, the Tapestry of Eternity unfolds
(Through the hands of thee)
For through thine counsel are souls made stalwart,
In the Visage of Shadows made to see.

O, been hazed, been dazed
Mine entity hath been flayed,
Until incarnadine raiment arrayed
And through Nox & Somnus, mine heartsease is betrayed.

Lo!  Yet as a wraith in pining
For the Land of Living & Immortal Truth,
O, the Priestess of the Sacrality of Sapience
Doth forge a revenant anew.

O, continue upon thine Pilgrimage
For thine spirit, it gleams:
Upon the Feuillemorte Leaves of Autumn
The Sacred Lotus, impregnable, breathes.

The Hiemal Sun glistens brighter
As discernment and time wax Sovereign Reign; knowledge is
The Diadem of The Epistemic Empress:
  The Monarchy of your claim.

May Splendor and Mercy
Be promised unto thee,
May you promenade life’s trek in credence
That the Wings of Manumission make thee truly free.

If by chance you findeth enfettered
Your soul through sentiments strewn
Wonder upon the liberation
You’ve woven into mind’s renewed.

O, the Soul shall reapeth,
That which it sows,
You’ve harvested the Seeds of Liberty,
Let the Diadem of thine Ascendency thus be made to grow.
May the sacraments
She confers,
Alight upon
Her
Own soul,
May She
effloresce
in the Light of The Empyrean One
Excelsior
Forevermore.

~Happy Holidays Beloved Ones.~

"Therefore, become imitators of God, as beloved children"

-Ephesians 5:1
Our souls are enfettered
By an Inexorable Penance,
Sorrows & Lamentations:

In pining for
The Light of Transmutation
The Adamantine Wings
Of Stalwart Bahamut
Unburdened our etherealized hearts.

(Speaking for the future)

Spira has lost its
Yoke of Communion
To this Cimmerian Millennium.

Redemption’s Revelation:

Aeonic sin hath reigned
Under the Cathedral of Deception
Forged by the taught tongues
Of Yevon;

Despotic Lunae
Eclipsed the light
Of a forlorn sky,
Divine Pantheon
For
Numen of Sol.

Cast a
Stygian Shadow of Sanctimonious Suffering for Souls.
Seems eternal; truly, ephemeral.

For,
the Hearts of nations
Are
Sacrosanct Luminaries.

Our tears
Have been shed,
Our vanities
Indemnified.

Skies shall bleed Empyrean Bliss
And
The Opus of Life
Shall cleanse
This wearied Spira of Pernicious Sin.
*

(Amen.)
Inspired by Final Fantasy X. I attempted to encapsulate the story, thematic undertones, fantasy elements, ambiance of the musical piece (of same title as piece), as well as the penitence, sorrow, hope, and mirth set out before our heroes/heroines. Was a bit rushed as I wanted to get this out to you guys as swiftly as possible. Thank you for all your support because you mean all the world to me. Any constructive feedback is most appreciated! Enjoy! :)
Incendiary asperity:
The world's existentiality
Agony, the Merciless & Mercenary
Scourging me entirely.

The Angst of the Aeons
Are the pedigree, the genealogy, the history borne to emancipate Me as a Vessel of Sanctity
For the valiant souls
Are the souls of transcendence, who revere in remembrance
The Amour of the Yore

My Vestibule Heart
Expands, contracts, being consecrated demands just as
Starry-Wombed the Cosmos, we
Must grow, burgeon through our learning & yearning, deserving & pining for the Promise of Morrow
For we were not formed
To wallow in sorrow.

As I gaze to the heavens
O, ***** and Gomorrah I remember
The Wife of Lot looks back forever: emblazoned as a Petrified December,
Then Fire & Sulphur descended, mankind nearly ended;
What is the lesson?
Of faith we are descendants.

Why do you
Roil my ravaged and brutally savaged soul?
Must bitterness be the wage for days spent having prayed
On my knees, for armistice, by The Empyrean One’s decree?

Though I have fallen,
I shall rise up
For the Fate’s Auric Visage radiates light upon the leaven,
Dost ferment the flesh dominating mine spirit.
Hearkening to
The susurrus of the Sovereign of Songbird’s Sacrosanct Love.

Let the Ethereal Tides of Time
Bathe me in baptismal & divine tribulation, trial
For a writhing while,
Sacrality is a war,
The Primal Instinct’s Immemorial Diminuendo.

Where has fake paradise of the Sylvan Shine
Those forested, emerald Eyes
That glisten in mine dreams gone?
Your visage twas my divine.

Though I am forlorn,
The Cosmo-Plexus of Empyreal Love hath sworn
To the Days of Yore
That I shall soar once more.

To my Enfettered Soul,
Excelsior.
An acoustic sonority that reverberates upon the premise of rhyme. This piece was created with an objective akin to freestyle spoken-word: profundite in conjunction with resounding musicality. Tis my hope that you not only enjoy the occipital as well as temporal titillation begotten.

God Bless,

Sanders Maurice Foulke III
Sorcier d'argent Mar 2016
Colours in my eyes; like rain
as it drizzles, verses in vain;
Thoughts upon layering vines
of prosetry; a delightful hymn.

More than a picture; a metaphor:

A dismay of one's own fancy,
Prismatic one would say; vibrant-
ly laced strings trilled, on a fancy;
Whimsical: clinquantly fervent,

Or so one would say; gracing,
Painting cliques; of colours
of places upon themselves;
As a canvass wild wandering,

Upon the world in its charming flatter.

Unlike I, one bound deeply; enfettered
gladly in between dimly shades of two.

"A mixture of velvety crimson and deep royal violet."
Chineze Oct 2015
Every morning I wake up,
Am reminded of so much I need to be ashamed of
Immediately, all the little strenght I'd gathered while asleep,
Vanishes, leaving me with a vacuum so deep.
I take up a feeble stand,
So as not to waste the day I have in hand.
With little make- up and simple lace
I pretend that everything is in place
Yet I'm merely a living dead
Yearning that someday this torment would come to an end.

At nights, the feeling increases with much fierceness
In its' silence and darkness
Am left alone with my regrets and rage
Entangled with my past, enfettered in it's cage
Is it the regret of giving my everything,
While loosing the confidence to be me?
Or the rage from repeatedly falling for hidden lies
Enshrouded in deceitful smiles?
With my strength fully abated,
I lie in the pool of my own tears, still; without the vacuum satiated.
Eleni Jun 2017
In the dusky primitive kitchen,
I sat beside the old window.
Mourning, quavering, under the cooling moonlight and savouring the river of Wine singing,
'I've been mistreated, don't mind dying.'

And for a moment
It felt like a spectre was emerging
From that scarlet pool
Which glistened navy in the night.

The flimsy shadow, laden with gray,
Like the smoke that spews from the chimneys, whistled.
Then I saw that it was me, but a lost
Soul that had succumbed to the debris.

The vinyl player whined:
'People tell me walkin' blues ain't bad'
But there was nothing I could do but be sad and lament the love we had.

I looked into the mirror of Life
And saw fire blistering, where peace should be.
Horns growing, where flowers should
Gleam.
The storm that was brewing benighted me.

If I had hanged on...
If I had stayed strong-
Perhaps you would be here singing with me
Instead of our hearts throbbing with
Agony.

So our boats must beat on
Sail away with the wind; against the Deep Blue
Our paths crossed and now no longer belong to the quixotic future we were enfettered to.

'People tell me the old walkin' blues ain't bad'
But I was just a ghost, in a dusky, primitive kitchen,
Sitting against the shut window, mad;
'Well it's the worst old feeling Lord-
I most ever had.'

— The End —