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TW Smith Oct 2013
Merrick, was he
And now farmer.
The ghost of the Euridi wars
But now simply father.

She gave unto him Ilo
And then passed.
A treasure from her *****.
For what more could he ask?

The grey in his hair
And the wrinkle upon his skin.
As his daughter kissed his cheek
He thought not of past sin.

Ilo sang as the angels
And glided with beauty.
But her sickness had doomed her
To waste away rudely.

Traveller Nner spoke of
Arcadia and the four ghosts of God.
Far away, over mountains
Plagued by demons and monsters odd.

Ilo can live again,
Warrior-farmer-father.
Across the desert, ocean, and mountains
Do not falter.

Staff in hand,
Upon Kerona he rides.
Eastward towards the ghosts
With Ilo's body by his side.

Dragon of desert lands,
From the sand to the sky, fly
Breathe of fire, brimstone
A war through the night.

Cut deep
The flesh of the fire breather.
For your daughter Ilo's soul
Hangs in the ether.

Victory and blood
But her body lies still.
No gain from this battle.
Only sorrow and hatred to feel.

Forward to the ocean,
To the lair of the giant serpent.
The one who drinks up the waters
And will not relent.

The mighty beast,
He steals away Ilo's body.
To the floor of the earth,
Beckoning Merrick hotly.

A foul beast has stolen
The body of my daughter.
Merrick breathes in all the air
And follows after.

A war under water,
Flesh and blood in twain.
****** into the belly of the beast.
A nameless grave.

Burst forth from the entrails,
Ripped, bitten, and torn.
Another beast overcame.
Another victory, though forlorn.

He holds her body
And her head against his.
A tear he permits.
His life would he give.

To the forests of Zalvest
To the lair of evil.
Black magic awaits
To unravel his meddle.

Trickery of the mind,
Manipulated with horror.
Recalling the gruesome battles of Euridi
And comrades lost to war.

Blinded by fear,
By the demon wizard of Zalvest.
How helpless he feels.
Lay the ghost to rest.

Acceptance of sin,
Parting with guilt.
A wizard rendered weak,
The evil-willed welps.

To the four ghosts of God
Atop the mountains of Arcadia.
Breathe life to Ilo
I have bested the sons of Echidna.

Not ghosts of God,
But of the devil.
A sacrifice for a life,
A hero laid low to their level.

And Ilo is raised,
Her breathe is now her own.
With his parting words
His love is shown.
The wicked whip of word
Lashes welps upon
The starved psyche
Of the errogenous mind

Indeed the moment rises
In smoke and indigo sheets
Of layered heat pressing down
Into the flesh of desired
Impunity , iniquity , liquidity

Happy is a framed stated stanza
Of thine behind plastic cups
Of wine in sheds
Of gray aged wooden shingle
From long long ago

Was it "Bored-dough" or "Shabby"
Time will consume
But the experience
Leaves you panting
Thirsty for more
Midnight Lament



FROM SALT A WORD OF

THOUGHT, A BREATH NOT

OCEAN,NOT AIR. A FEEL WITH

HEART, A TOUCH OF MIND, A

PROFOUND DIMENTION OF

ECSTACY. IN AND OUT OF LONG

HALLS THAT ECHO , ONLY ONE

YET Weighed IN BY A LIBERTY

YIELDED A PROMISE OF BONES

AND DUST GROWS VELVET

BLOOM THORNED. THE WELPS

OF LIGHTNING HEAD TO FOOT

FORGED A GLOW IN MY HEAD. A

STEAMING AMAZON CRESTING

AN OCEAN OF BLISS, THIS WORD

PASSES LIPS WITH EASE OF

BREATH.



Larry Dewayne Bible



Copyright 2000 Larry Dewayne Bible
yes it;s 11 years old
the lone wolf cries
welps, squeals, yells
hoping for the magpie
to carry her song

spread it around
someone has to hear
the sad sad sound
of a lone wolf shot down
FROM SALT A WORD OF THOUGHT, A BREATH NOT OCEAN
NOT AIR A FEEL WITH HEART, A TOUCH OF MIND A
PROFOUND DIMENTION OF ECSTACY. IN AND OUT OF
LONG HALLS THAT ECHO ONLY ONE YET WADE IN BY
A LIBERITY YIELDED A PROMISE OF BONES AND
DUST GROWS VELVET BLOOM, THORNED. THE WELPS
OF LIGHTNING HEAD TO FOOT FORGED A GLOW IN
MY HEAD. A STEAMING FOAMING AMAZON CRESTING
AN OCEAN OF BLISS, THIS WORD PASSES LIPS WITH
EASE OF BREATH.
Jazleigh Walker May 2015
I slap you so hard it stings, not my hand but behind my eyes
As you yell the mark welps as if to swell with your lies
Your eyes flash with anger, a reflection that doesn't fully hide
The shame and guilt you keep buried inside
You shake me as if I'm a toy that will wash it all away
Yet the lines have been drawn and I see the picture clear as day
I shove you as you sway so as no to trip on broken glass
They look like the shards of your fake and faulty mask
The door slams as you flee the scene of lies created by you
Just know that you'll never be able to outrun the truth

— The End —