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"unseelie" poems
Would you like to go to a land, where the stories never end? It rests on a golden bank of sand, down where the river bends. The sky turns suddenly pale, while passing through the mysterious veil. But what a magical, wonderful sight, to see the fairies in flight. To see the elves dancing two by two, in the early morning dew. To hear the sweet music from the leprechaun's lyre, as the laughter trills through the air. Skipping over a babbling brook, down where the trees do sing. The dragons give a dubious look, to see the mermaids enchant the Unseelie King. And while frolicking in the meadows, watch as the gnomes gather rose petals. But be ready to pay the toll, if you pass over the Bridge of Trolls. Night is nearly on the land, time to greet the Sandman. I hope you have had a happy day, and do not forget to come back this way. ALesiach © 10/01/2014
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Jul 26, 2019
Jul 26, 2019 at 8:44 PM UTC
Fairyland
The Crows Caw, Its A Close Call, Hidden In A Ring Of Toadstool, Had To Run Before The Roads Fall, Against The Fey We Fare Small. Gutted The Planet, The Unseelie Planned It, Flames Of War (.) The Reptiles They Fanned It, The Truth Is Much More (.) But Who Here Is Candid. Volcanic Eruption & Spiritual Disruption, Cosmic Consumption & Intelligent Destruction. The Fey With Their Way Make The Earths Axis Sway, The Night Takes The Day While We Humans Pray. The Crows They All Caw, Mourning Shrouds All Fall, Warning Clouds Will Not Stall, But I'm Safe With The Toadstool.
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Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 4:47 AM UTC
Toadstool
Where she stops Someone dies Grandma keep a watchful eye For on your deathbed as you lay The Dullahan will come to play Gifted with supernatural sight You, she sees, in the dark of night A whip of a human spine she does wield From her, your soul I cannot shield Head in hand, grey with decay I pray to the gods—come what may On her pitch-black steed she rides Dressed in a gown stitched of human hides Her decapitated head wears a Glasgow grin Prepare for death when the Dullahan comes riding in Member of the Unseelie Court She’s the collector of souls; bodies amort Although the protective curtain’s drawn Grandma, you’ll be dead before the dawn
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Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 8:21 AM UTC
Lady Dullahan
O heart, soul, core, me: If I do exist, I am exactly pristine in condition Under the surface of a pond Frozen in eternal ice. O want, wish, will, dream: The ice that denies life, Sapping its oppressive strength, Transforming its innocent weakness; Making brittle the bold, Making hard the soft. O form, frame, flesh, face: The palm of my hand Is spread against the bottom of the ice, Reaching up as though to grasp All the nothing I aspire to.
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Jun 6, 2025
Jun 6, 2025 at 4:07 PM UTC
Unseelie Heart of the Frozen Pond
It’s like suddenly being sieged by black water holding you down, with one fist around your chest and another shackling your rest. So when you finally give in to suffocation. Smothering screams of molestation. Crows pecking your burning mind while you crouch by the window, waiting for dawn to rush in and save the day. Your door is bolted with iron locks shutting out persistent, saintly knocks. But your window on the seventh floor knows the allure of breaking apart. Letting you try unseelie wings: freedom without heartstrings. So why does that sobbing ghost, pleading by your locked door, still hold enough ectoplasm to keep your body safe but your mind insane?
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Feb 14, 2020
Feb 14, 2020 at 3:05 AM UTC
Unseelie wings
As the Unseelie Court enchants the just torment Either of Heaven or Hell upon the Eleven Trooping Aristocracies to pay Ichor, the whole zero sum of all passions The Great Chains of Gaia: Derekh ha-Shemoth, Liosalfar and Dockalfar; The Image and The Similitude- Existence and its Expenditure become of mind quintessense. However, the sensitiveness of the soul finds providence In blessed feer, propounded a reward unparalleled if One could be prized 'The Last Standing, Not Falling', Beyond the Infinite Way an Ipsissmus Of the eight Sha'are 'Orah sorceries that the wind bloweth Where it listeth to grant thee power unto the ages, Gods' corporeal even-tide: The Sword That Keeps Eden! ELEETE J MUIR
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Jul 31, 2022
Jul 31, 2022 at 12:34 AM UTC
Mawkin's Dreaming