Somewhere within a troubled mind
Long eaten by the winds of time;
Shards of the man that once he was,
Regretted road sides stained with blood.
Lost behind his hidden thoughts,
Filled with pain's forget-me-nots.
With thunder rum and lightning wine
He seeks escape in vain and blind.
Storms blow the tattered, withered, sails.
Black as sin, this dark soul’s tales.
Undead horrors haunt his sleep.
Phantoms of what used to be.
Sand falls through the hour glass,
His eyes search deep beyond the past.
Dark brandy brewed in false delight.
Naught could end his sleepless nights.
The tempest in him rages on
Though covered by a wistful song.
He knows of what all others hear:
His madness his consuming fear.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Veiled Infinity
Fading light in bleeding dawn.
Midnight moon holds back the sun.
Simple lives killed by desire,
A hunter on the wind for hire.
Spinning worlds beheld at dusk:
Finders, keepers, thoughts of dust.
A glaring night with falling stars,
Wand'ring thoughts that orbit Mars.
The galaxies beyond my reach
Leave footsteps on the silent beach.
Wreckage laid out on the sand.
Moonbeams burn a fiery brand.
Music of the moving spheres,
Minor chords and gentle tears.
Venus groans as false gods die.
Veiled infinity passes by.
Years of wind, rains of time,
Dragon fire, hawk eyes blind.
Fairy mist and violet red.
The flowers scream, the truth lies dead.
Purple grasses, bruised and broken,
Amber eyes and words not spoken.
Giving, taking, lost and found:
Pirate's blood, unworthy crown.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Midnight moon holds back the sun.
Simple lives killed by desire,
A hunter on the wind for hire.
Spinning worlds beheld at dusk:
Finders, keepers, thoughts of dust.
A glaring night with falling stars,
Wand'ring thoughts that orbit Mars.
The galaxies beyond my reach
Leave footsteps on the silent beach.
Wreckage laid out on the sand.
Moonbeams burn a fiery brand.
Music of the moving spheres,
Minor chords and gentle tears.
Venus groans as false gods die.
Veiled infinity passes by.
Years of wind, rains of time,
Dragon fire, hawk eyes blind.
Fairy mist and violet red.
The flowers scream, the truth lies dead.
Purple grasses, bruised and broken,
Amber eyes and words not spoken.
Giving, taking, lost and found:
Pirate's blood, unworthy crown.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Sedition
Drowning in the scarlet thunder,
Envy casting forth its bloom.
To disregard the haunting fervor
Reveals the name upon the tomb.
Venom etched into the stonework
Of the stormy splintered wood.
The poison blossom of deception
Burns like fire never could.
The muted thief and blemished wound
Leave the vapor dim and stale.
The dark buds of sedition blood
Mark the path where warriors fail.
The infamy a traitor's curse,
A tempest tinged with bitter haze.
Defector's hatred well rehearsed
Though turncoat errand seldom pays.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Envy casting forth its bloom.
To disregard the haunting fervor
Reveals the name upon the tomb.
Venom etched into the stonework
Of the stormy splintered wood.
The poison blossom of deception
Burns like fire never could.
The muted thief and blemished wound
Leave the vapor dim and stale.
The dark buds of sedition blood
Mark the path where warriors fail.
The infamy a traitor's curse,
A tempest tinged with bitter haze.
Defector's hatred well rehearsed
Though turncoat errand seldom pays.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Solstice
The mirrors round about us move,
Your bag of tricks discerning.
The quiet screams that fill my mind
And ghostly winds returning.
While here upon the Autumn breeze
The leafy biers burning.
I dug my grave too deep a thing
To hide your jealous plunder.
Their steady hearts begin to beat
And feed the rolling thunder.
While all the rivers run with blood
And melt the lacy wonders.
In darkness and with brazen hearts
Stood pawns of bitter spite,
Waiting for the moment when
The moon would fall from night
And cut throughout the foggy veil,
Call up the misty light.
Within the midnight haze we hid
And built this flowered shrine.
But frozen noon came sweeping through
And claimed what once was thine.
So silently your wrath poured out
Into cups of bitter wine.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Your bag of tricks discerning.
The quiet screams that fill my mind
And ghostly winds returning.
While here upon the Autumn breeze
The leafy biers burning.
I dug my grave too deep a thing
To hide your jealous plunder.
Their steady hearts begin to beat
And feed the rolling thunder.
While all the rivers run with blood
And melt the lacy wonders.
In darkness and with brazen hearts
Stood pawns of bitter spite,
Waiting for the moment when
The moon would fall from night
And cut throughout the foggy veil,
Call up the misty light.
Within the midnight haze we hid
And built this flowered shrine.
But frozen noon came sweeping through
And claimed what once was thine.
So silently your wrath poured out
Into cups of bitter wine.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Friday, July 27, 2012
Tragedy
You scripted well your tragedy,
Working backward from the end.
Never thought that you would see
The broken letters you had penned.
Snowy embers, late to bloom
Melt to ice the burning page,
Taking every thought ill-gotten
To set the players on the stage.
All the reels of merry solace
Burned for sake and madness trade.
Laughing at the dreary revel,
Painted with insulting shade.
Sketch the shadow-lit facade,
Pretend that you don't see them.
Enchanted web that sparkles with
The tears of selfish reason.
This dragon writhes upon its perch
Of pain and mortal sorrow;
Such jealousy of bitter mirth,
Your anger for to borrow.
Fair and dark of splendid starlight,
Words sprung of a wishing well.
Close the book upon the story
With wings here broken since we fell.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Working backward from the end.
Never thought that you would see
The broken letters you had penned.
Snowy embers, late to bloom
Melt to ice the burning page,
Taking every thought ill-gotten
To set the players on the stage.
All the reels of merry solace
Burned for sake and madness trade.
Laughing at the dreary revel,
Painted with insulting shade.
Sketch the shadow-lit facade,
Pretend that you don't see them.
Enchanted web that sparkles with
The tears of selfish reason.
This dragon writhes upon its perch
Of pain and mortal sorrow;
Such jealousy of bitter mirth,
Your anger for to borrow.
Fair and dark of splendid starlight,
Words sprung of a wishing well.
Close the book upon the story
With wings here broken since we fell.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Wanderlust
Confession if the Constant drowns
In vibrant pools of wanderlust.
The mind is lush
With such renown,
As known by the cardsharp wretch.
All profit gained is fit to stretch
To every turning of their rhymes.
A mortal master,
Trust him not:
One eye sharp, the other blind.
Such beasts as these
Are not confined.
If forest calls,
Then more the stream.
Of Elven songs.
More Pixie green.
Here their be giants, thieves and maids.
Rogue and scoundrel, darkly paid.
Of stages set,
Of parts long played,
Here they lie in deepest shade.
Draw your lots,
Cast you fire.
Wonder finds lust and desire.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
In vibrant pools of wanderlust.
The mind is lush
With such renown,
As known by the cardsharp wretch.
All profit gained is fit to stretch
To every turning of their rhymes.
A mortal master,
Trust him not:
One eye sharp, the other blind.
Such beasts as these
Are not confined.
If forest calls,
Then more the stream.
Of Elven songs.
More Pixie green.
Here their be giants, thieves and maids.
Rogue and scoundrel, darkly paid.
Of stages set,
Of parts long played,
Here they lie in deepest shade.
Draw your lots,
Cast you fire.
Wonder finds lust and desire.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Painted Lace
Crystal tears of amber grace
Fall across the white washed sea.
The darkness that we built was molded
By the thing I could not be.
Conceal my bitter imperfection
With a veil of bloody fear,
Touching scars that lightly dance
Against the brighter hemisphere.
All the world falls down to stillness
Beneath the caverns of our minds.
Reaching out to touch the nightfall
In this cup of fairy wine.
The fingers of a lacy eve
Fall with red-tipped monarch wings.
This goblet black and ebony
Could never mask such shadowed things.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Fall across the white washed sea.
The darkness that we built was molded
By the thing I could not be.
Conceal my bitter imperfection
With a veil of bloody fear,
Touching scars that lightly dance
Against the brighter hemisphere.
All the world falls down to stillness
Beneath the caverns of our minds.
Reaching out to touch the nightfall
In this cup of fairy wine.
The fingers of a lacy eve
Fall with red-tipped monarch wings.
This goblet black and ebony
Could never mask such shadowed things.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
The Game
I'll wear this mask just one more time
And pray their thoughts are ever blind.
Don't let them see this worn child
Nor will they know of things defiled.
The blessing that I took for curse
I gave, lest it be taken first.
An endless dance, this game we play.
A stale mate ends another day.
The Tuscan ink dries on the page,
Its crimson words locked in a cage.
This silence a consuming sound
Wrought by the secrets that you found.
Disguise is forged by mortal sins
Yet living as if death could cleanse.
The wonders that I knew before
Have lost their charm and please no more.
Unending battles of illusion
Leave to my mind its own intrusion.
The words now set within my book
Demand I take a closer look.
Forgive my dark and haunted dreams,
No heart is ever as it seems.
I'll lose this game before its through.
Can't question who I'm talking to.
I've held my hand, twas mine to play.
Now take my prize and walk away.
Forever told, a hero's story:
Drowning in a blaze of glory.
©2012, MLowe. All Right's Reserved.
And pray their thoughts are ever blind.
Don't let them see this worn child
Nor will they know of things defiled.
The blessing that I took for curse
I gave, lest it be taken first.
An endless dance, this game we play.
A stale mate ends another day.
The Tuscan ink dries on the page,
Its crimson words locked in a cage.
This silence a consuming sound
Wrought by the secrets that you found.
Disguise is forged by mortal sins
Yet living as if death could cleanse.
The wonders that I knew before
Have lost their charm and please no more.
Unending battles of illusion
Leave to my mind its own intrusion.
The words now set within my book
Demand I take a closer look.
Forgive my dark and haunted dreams,
No heart is ever as it seems.
I'll lose this game before its through.
Can't question who I'm talking to.
I've held my hand, twas mine to play.
Now take my prize and walk away.
Forever told, a hero's story:
Drowning in a blaze of glory.
©2012, MLowe. All Right's Reserved.
Dragon Maid
Eyes water blue and frozen over
With the Winter of Despair.
Watch the smoke within the distance,
Rising from the Dragon’s Lair.
The voices on the wind are fell,
Crying ever night and day.
Listen closely, they will tell
The Dragon Maid’s mournful lay.
Born in lands now dark and weary,
Being of the ones called Fey.
Canadel, so they named her.
Canadel, the Dragon Maid.
A doom was set upon her birth
And away her youth did fly.
To journey forth while still young
Though the legends tell not why.
Within her state of discontent,
Long and lonely was her road,
She gave her ear to the call
And many tales of old.
The smell of night was on the wind
Outside the Northern Gate.
Watching eyes saw her approach,
They had called her as of late.
The sword she carried at her side
Glimmered in the moon.
And she felt his gaze and glare
As death inside a tomb.
Then before her stood the shape
Of a great and mighty worm.
Here, she knew, the Dragon’s Call
Had foretold this eve, her doom.
In the morn he mocked her name
But she cried of sudden, “Nay,
“On my name your death is brought,
“The silver of my blade is Fey.”
With these words she took the sword,
Became the creature’s bane,
And thrust it through the great worm’s chest
Where his heart lay hot and vain.
Yet in the very throes of death
The creature spoke once more,
“Canadel, your life is cursed,
“A burden that your mother bore.”
Upon her life a fate he swore,
Proclaiming her to death.
Setting on the Elven fair
The curse of Dragon’s Breath.
On her heart foreboding dwelt
While outside lands did call.
Death would find her soon, she knew,
Should she leave the Northern Hall.
Being proud, she raised her head
To face the Dragon’s curse.
At a run she left the Hall,
Then fell, dead, to earth.
When the Northern Smoke had died,
Travelers dared to venture near.
A lone mourner found her there,
Cold as the new-come year.
It was he did not know her name,
Yet perceived where she was from.
And silently he bore her
To the land from whence she’d come.
Within the cold ground she was laid
On a bitter darkened night.
Thus the Elven harps were played
For Canadel, the Dragon-maid.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
With the Winter of Despair.
Watch the smoke within the distance,
Rising from the Dragon’s Lair.
The voices on the wind are fell,
Crying ever night and day.
Listen closely, they will tell
The Dragon Maid’s mournful lay.
Born in lands now dark and weary,
Being of the ones called Fey.
Canadel, so they named her.
Canadel, the Dragon Maid.
A doom was set upon her birth
And away her youth did fly.
To journey forth while still young
Though the legends tell not why.
Within her state of discontent,
Long and lonely was her road,
She gave her ear to the call
And many tales of old.
The smell of night was on the wind
Outside the Northern Gate.
Watching eyes saw her approach,
They had called her as of late.
The sword she carried at her side
Glimmered in the moon.
And she felt his gaze and glare
As death inside a tomb.
Then before her stood the shape
Of a great and mighty worm.
Here, she knew, the Dragon’s Call
Had foretold this eve, her doom.
In the morn he mocked her name
But she cried of sudden, “Nay,
“On my name your death is brought,
“The silver of my blade is Fey.”
With these words she took the sword,
Became the creature’s bane,
And thrust it through the great worm’s chest
Where his heart lay hot and vain.
Yet in the very throes of death
The creature spoke once more,
“Canadel, your life is cursed,
“A burden that your mother bore.”
Upon her life a fate he swore,
Proclaiming her to death.
Setting on the Elven fair
The curse of Dragon’s Breath.
On her heart foreboding dwelt
While outside lands did call.
Death would find her soon, she knew,
Should she leave the Northern Hall.
Being proud, she raised her head
To face the Dragon’s curse.
At a run she left the Hall,
Then fell, dead, to earth.
When the Northern Smoke had died,
Travelers dared to venture near.
A lone mourner found her there,
Cold as the new-come year.
It was he did not know her name,
Yet perceived where she was from.
And silently he bore her
To the land from whence she’d come.
Within the cold ground she was laid
On a bitter darkened night.
Thus the Elven harps were played
For Canadel, the Dragon-maid.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Pen
Slow the pen,
By darkness hindered.
Lost within,
The flame un-kindled.
Broken measures
Full of dust;
Ill composed
Of ancient rust.
The snakes and liars
Come a-creeping;
Spineless falsehood,
Wretched screeching.
Suppose it all unlikely chance.
If loving truly went by haps.
Wake the silent, brooding, quill.
Arise within the greater will.
Light the room with written word,
No matter how insane, absurd.
What once was dull shall shine again;
God granted power to the pen.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
By darkness hindered.
Lost within,
The flame un-kindled.
Broken measures
Full of dust;
Ill composed
Of ancient rust.
The snakes and liars
Come a-creeping;
Spineless falsehood,
Wretched screeching.
Suppose it all unlikely chance.
If loving truly went by haps.
Wake the silent, brooding, quill.
Arise within the greater will.
Light the room with written word,
No matter how insane, absurd.
What once was dull shall shine again;
God granted power to the pen.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Monday, July 23, 2012
The Mask
Caress the snow lit fairy wings.
Paint your screams
Upon the lily canvas bright.
Water eyes a midnight dark
Set aflame
The siren light.
Quiver at the touch of stardust.
Lock your trust
Inside the halls of dreamer’s souls.
Whispered wishing never framed
In blooming tears
Nor dripping rose.
Outcast nymph of mortal heartache,
Let them break
Atop the blood stained sands of time.
Tides roll odd upon the season
With the reason
Out of rhyme.
Embrace the velvet shades of gray.
Sleep to stay
Behind my world of fragile glass.
Chimeras of a gaudy silence
Drown beneath
My pixie mask.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Paint your screams
Upon the lily canvas bright.
Water eyes a midnight dark
Set aflame
The siren light.
Quiver at the touch of stardust.
Lock your trust
Inside the halls of dreamer’s souls.
Whispered wishing never framed
In blooming tears
Nor dripping rose.
Outcast nymph of mortal heartache,
Let them break
Atop the blood stained sands of time.
Tides roll odd upon the season
With the reason
Out of rhyme.
Embrace the velvet shades of gray.
Sleep to stay
Behind my world of fragile glass.
Chimeras of a gaudy silence
Drown beneath
My pixie mask.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Sea Song
Simple silence,
Quiet screams,
Darkling dancers,
Weave livid dreams.
A distant drum,
Soft wind caress,
Loves lies scorned,
Unfaithful kiss.
Burning incense,
Colors dim,
Indian spice
That calls to him.
Churning waves
That feed desire,
Tides that turn
A sailor’s bier.
Rotting trees
Washed on shore.
Illusion gold
Worth fighting for.
Sell your soul
For scars of treason.
Leaves now falling
Out of season.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Quiet screams,
Darkling dancers,
Weave livid dreams.
A distant drum,
Soft wind caress,
Loves lies scorned,
Unfaithful kiss.
Burning incense,
Colors dim,
Indian spice
That calls to him.
Churning waves
That feed desire,
Tides that turn
A sailor’s bier.
Rotting trees
Washed on shore.
Illusion gold
Worth fighting for.
Sell your soul
For scars of treason.
Leaves now falling
Out of season.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Caravan
A cold night was dawning, the fires burned bright.
The gypsies moved on with their unending flight.
A caravan trailing the slightest of winds.
Walk on and listen, a story begins.
Tales of a traitor, the song of a prince.
The cry of a lady who flees on a whim.
A story of murder, a horrid black death,
A robber who stole a rich man's last breath.
Murmurs of rubies and diamonds like stars,
Spices and incense, perfumes kept in jars.
Gold coins that jingle, silver that spills,
Genies in bottles, the clash of mens' wills.
Bandits marauding and robbing us blind,
Leaving us nothing but thoughts in our minds.
Letting me wonder in light of the crime:
Sitting and sipping dark burgundy wine.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
The gypsies moved on with their unending flight.
A caravan trailing the slightest of winds.
Walk on and listen, a story begins.
Tales of a traitor, the song of a prince.
The cry of a lady who flees on a whim.
A story of murder, a horrid black death,
A robber who stole a rich man's last breath.
Murmurs of rubies and diamonds like stars,
Spices and incense, perfumes kept in jars.
Gold coins that jingle, silver that spills,
Genies in bottles, the clash of mens' wills.
Bandits marauding and robbing us blind,
Leaving us nothing but thoughts in our minds.
Letting me wonder in light of the crime:
Sitting and sipping dark burgundy wine.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Friday, July 20, 2012
Ante
Always on the outside,
Somewhere on the end.
Never in the outline,
Got nowhere to begin.
Simply live by breathing,
Barely taking the next step.
Little gained by thieving,
Hoping we'll forget.
So lost inside the meltdown
I've forgotten how to live.
Never ending go'round
With nothing left to give.
Lies paint them to be prophets,
Truth has called them doomed;
Setting of the on-set
Beneath the silent room.
Keeping from the slaughter
The children of deceit.
His cold and broken daughter
Laughing at the feat.
We turn our tricks to mar them
And in the slender web
The smallest error's margin
Abandons them for dead.
This knife that strikes is folly
But one I've carried long
And if I judge you wrongly
The curse's hold prolong.
Waking while they're sleeping
To be dreaming when they wake;
Finding something worth believing
Without a name to stake.
The ante is their conscious,
The cost that makes us fools.
Not seeing that we lost us
In our struggle not to lose.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Somewhere on the end.
Never in the outline,
Got nowhere to begin.
Simply live by breathing,
Barely taking the next step.
Little gained by thieving,
Hoping we'll forget.
So lost inside the meltdown
I've forgotten how to live.
Never ending go'round
With nothing left to give.
Lies paint them to be prophets,
Truth has called them doomed;
Setting of the on-set
Beneath the silent room.
Keeping from the slaughter
The children of deceit.
His cold and broken daughter
Laughing at the feat.
We turn our tricks to mar them
And in the slender web
The smallest error's margin
Abandons them for dead.
This knife that strikes is folly
But one I've carried long
And if I judge you wrongly
The curse's hold prolong.
Waking while they're sleeping
To be dreaming when they wake;
Finding something worth believing
Without a name to stake.
The ante is their conscious,
The cost that makes us fools.
Not seeing that we lost us
In our struggle not to lose.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Soul Crusade
You sit upon the winding road
And silent watch the placid sky.
This empty look that fills your eyes
Leaves you always asking why.
The counterfeit you hand to others
Drives the nails to your disgrace.
A fog consumes the smallest glory,
A bout of shame you play to face.
Deliverance you cannot master
Nor will you hear the prophet's voice.
Spite and fear have met and mingle
To offer sweet deceptive choice.
This countenance has grown dreary,
Tired of the world's embrace.
A soul long hindered, weak and weary,
Still shuns its Lover's holy face.
The visions round about us dance
Upon a land of red decay.
The tune composed of mortal's trance,
You call us as we turn away.
The road beneath you paved with spirits
Of those your heart-set has laid bare.
Such innocence so long beguiled,
Wooed by secrets never shared.
The path doth writhe around the bend,
Your chaos downpours from the sky.
Immortal games that we pretend
Hold more truth than meets the eye.
Devotion in its worth unveiled,
Enduring are mens' souls to be.
Your denial is the shaded vice
That mutes the Debra crying "Free!"
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
And silent watch the placid sky.
This empty look that fills your eyes
Leaves you always asking why.
The counterfeit you hand to others
Drives the nails to your disgrace.
A fog consumes the smallest glory,
A bout of shame you play to face.
Deliverance you cannot master
Nor will you hear the prophet's voice.
Spite and fear have met and mingle
To offer sweet deceptive choice.
This countenance has grown dreary,
Tired of the world's embrace.
A soul long hindered, weak and weary,
Still shuns its Lover's holy face.
The visions round about us dance
Upon a land of red decay.
The tune composed of mortal's trance,
You call us as we turn away.
The road beneath you paved with spirits
Of those your heart-set has laid bare.
Such innocence so long beguiled,
Wooed by secrets never shared.
The path doth writhe around the bend,
Your chaos downpours from the sky.
Immortal games that we pretend
Hold more truth than meets the eye.
Devotion in its worth unveiled,
Enduring are mens' souls to be.
Your denial is the shaded vice
That mutes the Debra crying "Free!"
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Within Us Dwells
Rhapsody of dark delusion,
Sympathy of strange conclusion.
Don't pity me or wipe my tears,
You're everything I've ever feared.
The ace of hearts is scorched and burned,
A sun blinks out, my lesson learned.
I'll never speak another word
Of what I uttered 'til you heard.
Dragon's fire fills the sky,
Wanting what our gold can't buy.
These coins wrapped tight within our swag.
Unrighteous in our princely rags.
We drown beneath our sorrows wine
And hope to turn the hands of time.
Glorious though our sin may be,
Claiming slaves who once were free.
Turn away the tortured being,
Imagine what you'll never see.
These tears we cry like winter rain
Fall upon the earth in vain.
Forsaking all we ever knew
To feed the lies we claim as truth.
The brimstone fire in your eyes
No longer takes me by surprise.
So here we kneel before our pride,
Take insurrection as our bride.
We cannot see the looking glass
Nor thorns long buried in our past.
They stole our hearts, we broke their souls,
Our spirits growing much too old.
We forced ourselves into the fight
And brought on the unending night.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Sympathy of strange conclusion.
Don't pity me or wipe my tears,
You're everything I've ever feared.
The ace of hearts is scorched and burned,
A sun blinks out, my lesson learned.
I'll never speak another word
Of what I uttered 'til you heard.
Dragon's fire fills the sky,
Wanting what our gold can't buy.
These coins wrapped tight within our swag.
Unrighteous in our princely rags.
We drown beneath our sorrows wine
And hope to turn the hands of time.
Glorious though our sin may be,
Claiming slaves who once were free.
Turn away the tortured being,
Imagine what you'll never see.
These tears we cry like winter rain
Fall upon the earth in vain.
Forsaking all we ever knew
To feed the lies we claim as truth.
The brimstone fire in your eyes
No longer takes me by surprise.
So here we kneel before our pride,
Take insurrection as our bride.
We cannot see the looking glass
Nor thorns long buried in our past.
They stole our hearts, we broke their souls,
Our spirits growing much too old.
We forced ourselves into the fight
And brought on the unending night.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Goodfellow
Watch the fairies as they dance,
Let the songs of elves enchant .
While these mortals sleep below
Dreaming of the morning's glow.
Our visions will entrance their minds,
Holding hearts in flowered vines.
The Goodfellow will play his game
With the troths of men and maids.
Yet Oberon will have his jest
While the sweet Titania rests.
Not just mortals will be foold
Whilst Robin be in merry mood.
Flowers that were starlit white,
Now blushing red behind the night,
Transform the eyes of fairy queen.
Enamored of a man she'll be.
But all of this Puck will repent
But the time the moon is spent.
Oberon shall have his fair
And mortal's loves put in repair.
So your forgiveness he implores
When brings he naught unto your doors.
If in your dreams has Robin delved,
Fear not, for he will make all well.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights reserved.
Let the songs of elves enchant .
While these mortals sleep below
Dreaming of the morning's glow.
Our visions will entrance their minds,
Holding hearts in flowered vines.
The Goodfellow will play his game
With the troths of men and maids.
Yet Oberon will have his jest
While the sweet Titania rests.
Not just mortals will be foold
Whilst Robin be in merry mood.
Flowers that were starlit white,
Now blushing red behind the night,
Transform the eyes of fairy queen.
Enamored of a man she'll be.
But all of this Puck will repent
But the time the moon is spent.
Oberon shall have his fair
And mortal's loves put in repair.
So your forgiveness he implores
When brings he naught unto your doors.
If in your dreams has Robin delved,
Fear not, for he will make all well.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights reserved.
Monday, July 16, 2012
Reflecting
The flaming roses fell to silence,
The balance lost beyond our reach.
Paths reflecting martyr trials
Drive a wedge into the breech.
Each folly of our mortal chaos,
The rise and fall of every man.
The sun's dark orb reflecting vision;
Stars have their only course ran.
The keeper of the moon's visage
Guards the gateway to the past.
The age's route a mistress given.
A ship that sails with ghostly mast.
Tumbling to these chains design
Such creatures their decent began.
The slavery of man long lived
For the gods we made of them.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
The balance lost beyond our reach.
Paths reflecting martyr trials
Drive a wedge into the breech.
Each folly of our mortal chaos,
The rise and fall of every man.
The sun's dark orb reflecting vision;
Stars have their only course ran.
The keeper of the moon's visage
Guards the gateway to the past.
The age's route a mistress given.
A ship that sails with ghostly mast.
Tumbling to these chains design
Such creatures their decent began.
The slavery of man long lived
For the gods we made of them.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Double Treason
Something deeper than betrayal
Runs beneath these hidden scars.
Mold a mask of sweet illusion,
To hide behind these prison bars.
Passion stronger than their treason
Fills the weak and poisoned mind.
The sharpest knife, that of a brother,
Leaves wounds no other man can find.
Darkness colder than the nightmares
That thrive upon a withered soul.
Bless the cursed, full, understanding
Which changes everything we know.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Runs beneath these hidden scars.
Mold a mask of sweet illusion,
To hide behind these prison bars.
Passion stronger than their treason
Fills the weak and poisoned mind.
The sharpest knife, that of a brother,
Leaves wounds no other man can find.
Darkness colder than the nightmares
That thrive upon a withered soul.
Bless the cursed, full, understanding
Which changes everything we know.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
The Mirror
Hold your face close to the mirror,
Grasp for what you see behind.
All perfection in your likeness
Broke with nothing left to find
The shadows of their guilty eyes
Reflecting darkly in your own
And everything they thought you were
Whispered that you walk alone.
Look deeper through the rising night,
Your hand pressed to the window pane.
The cobwebbed pieces shake with cold
With tears that call the sky to rain.
At noon the sun consumed the moon
And flaming stars returned to dust.
Turn from their conditioned love,
Their passion wrought condemning lust
White lightening frozen in the sky
Reveals a tattered photograph.
And as they fade you shout their names:
The flawless fallen of the past.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Grasp for what you see behind.
All perfection in your likeness
Broke with nothing left to find
The shadows of their guilty eyes
Reflecting darkly in your own
And everything they thought you were
Whispered that you walk alone.
Look deeper through the rising night,
Your hand pressed to the window pane.
The cobwebbed pieces shake with cold
With tears that call the sky to rain.
At noon the sun consumed the moon
And flaming stars returned to dust.
Turn from their conditioned love,
Their passion wrought condemning lust
White lightening frozen in the sky
Reveals a tattered photograph.
And as they fade you shout their names:
The flawless fallen of the past.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Friday, July 13, 2012
Metaphor
All perplexing imperfection
Given to my glass complexion.
Fateful tears that feed my soul,
A bitter wine to fill the whole.
Out of reach for my obsession
With false words of my perception.
Leave the breaking to my thoughts
While the players slowly rot.
With all the worlds locked in my head
Another's ears heard what I said.
If they're not real, then what are you?
Never mind, I'll see it through.
The whispers fill my mind with dread
And kill the mouth you never fed.
To live inside a metaphor
Is everything and nothing more.
The very things you could not see
Were written for one such as me.
For all the places I have been
One more waits within the pen.
Lost in your reality,
Complaining of complacency.
The metaphor is what I am.
I'm introduced, may we begin?
Given to my glass complexion.
Fateful tears that feed my soul,
A bitter wine to fill the whole.
Out of reach for my obsession
With false words of my perception.
Leave the breaking to my thoughts
While the players slowly rot.
With all the worlds locked in my head
Another's ears heard what I said.
If they're not real, then what are you?
Never mind, I'll see it through.
The whispers fill my mind with dread
And kill the mouth you never fed.
To live inside a metaphor
Is everything and nothing more.
The very things you could not see
Were written for one such as me.
For all the places I have been
One more waits within the pen.
Lost in your reality,
Complaining of complacency.
The metaphor is what I am.
I'm introduced, may we begin?
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Bad Company
It makes a lovely light they say,
Don't stab me if I turn away.
I never meant to break the night,
The backward dark,
His blinding right.
The shadows be my company,
Those who see and still take me.
I guess it could be better said
To keep my thoughts
Within my head.
The innocence that time forgot:
You heard, and yet you listened not.
Of all the things we said to you,
You cut and paste
To make it true.
Play this like a rough roulette,
Round and round, see what you get.
Pray all your scheming won't go wrong.
We built our fortress
For the strong.
Suppose I'll sit here by the wall
And hold it up until you fall.
They know I'm what they'll never see:
A pawn to those
Who think they're free.
A window stained with broken glass,
A brazen chain with silver clasp:
All the things I never was
That gave them right
To play the judge.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Don't stab me if I turn away.
I never meant to break the night,
The backward dark,
His blinding right.
The shadows be my company,
Those who see and still take me.
I guess it could be better said
To keep my thoughts
Within my head.
The innocence that time forgot:
You heard, and yet you listened not.
Of all the things we said to you,
You cut and paste
To make it true.
Play this like a rough roulette,
Round and round, see what you get.
Pray all your scheming won't go wrong.
We built our fortress
For the strong.
Suppose I'll sit here by the wall
And hold it up until you fall.
They know I'm what they'll never see:
A pawn to those
Who think they're free.
A window stained with broken glass,
A brazen chain with silver clasp:
All the things I never was
That gave them right
To play the judge.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
The Dark Side
Swirling pools of ruby wine
Mellowed by the hands of time.
A burning fever claims the fool,
False futures read in drowning pools.
Passing hours fill the room.
Bring forth the prophet crying doom.
Bitter gin that's mixed with gall,
The powers of Gehenna fall.
Walls of stone no longer stand.
The unseen realm conflicts with man.
Withered spirits, years long dead,
Leave books unwritten, ink unread.
Torn pages tinged with fire.
The ashes drown beneath the mire.
Green amber forms a pathway home
But silent thieves stole all he owns.
A child waits, a mother cries,
"Slay the seers! Hang their lies!"
The flowered vines no longer bloom.
Lost on the dark side of the moon.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Mellowed by the hands of time.
A burning fever claims the fool,
False futures read in drowning pools.
Passing hours fill the room.
Bring forth the prophet crying doom.
Bitter gin that's mixed with gall,
The powers of Gehenna fall.
Walls of stone no longer stand.
The unseen realm conflicts with man.
Withered spirits, years long dead,
Leave books unwritten, ink unread.
Torn pages tinged with fire.
The ashes drown beneath the mire.
Green amber forms a pathway home
But silent thieves stole all he owns.
A child waits, a mother cries,
"Slay the seers! Hang their lies!"
The flowered vines no longer bloom.
Lost on the dark side of the moon.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Ungrateful
Ungrateful little girl,
Take this silence as your portion
All undeserving, sip your loneliness
And derive their pity from the pit.
Did you think you were so high
As of deserving slightest praise?
That whims would grace your mind,
Or he would chase you after all your words
Of haughty arrogance?
What have you earned?
Nothing, strikes the answer of the timid stone
Soft and supple, hard as hearts
From whence love is flown long and dreary.
Making merry from the ashen throne
With all the broken mirror pieces
Serving as a crown for she
Who calls the ice to be her bower;
In place of he who would have come
To offer warmth with darkened skin
And eyes like the sea
Where mermaids play the siren flute
In waves meant for the wonders.
Ah, but she, child of disdain
Would have him naught.
Being sick with bitterness for all
The time that marched
And in its passing left her there
Standing by the rolling breakers
Dim and broken, unshod feet had many miles
Into the sandy paths once beat only to find
He was not.
Not a word, nor a sigh, and was he gone
Without good bye.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved
Take this silence as your portion
All undeserving, sip your loneliness
And derive their pity from the pit.
Did you think you were so high
As of deserving slightest praise?
That whims would grace your mind,
Or he would chase you after all your words
Of haughty arrogance?
What have you earned?
Nothing, strikes the answer of the timid stone
Soft and supple, hard as hearts
From whence love is flown long and dreary.
Making merry from the ashen throne
With all the broken mirror pieces
Serving as a crown for she
Who calls the ice to be her bower;
In place of he who would have come
To offer warmth with darkened skin
And eyes like the sea
Where mermaids play the siren flute
In waves meant for the wonders.
Ah, but she, child of disdain
Would have him naught.
Being sick with bitterness for all
The time that marched
And in its passing left her there
Standing by the rolling breakers
Dim and broken, unshod feet had many miles
Into the sandy paths once beat only to find
He was not.
Not a word, nor a sigh, and was he gone
Without good bye.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Of His Coming Madness
All ye hail the threadbare king.
Wasted, broken, shameful thing
That sought to play too great a part
And lost all regal inkling dear.
Whilst eaten with the great sphere.
Falling e're to the maw
Which reveals in us our deepest fear.
Despite the chanting song sublime,
Never did he chance to climb;
To risk himself above all else.
Deeper, dark, eternal chill
Feeds his bones a twisted will.
Lock away and crush the key,
Bring forth the age:
Insanity.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Wasted, broken, shameful thing
That sought to play too great a part
And lost all regal inkling dear.
Whilst eaten with the great sphere.
Falling e're to the maw
Which reveals in us our deepest fear.
Despite the chanting song sublime,
Never did he chance to climb;
To risk himself above all else.
Deeper, dark, eternal chill
Feeds his bones a twisted will.
Lock away and crush the key,
Bring forth the age:
Insanity.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Monday, July 9, 2012
Child
Fay and darkened, tainted child,
Set upon the winds a-wild.
Keeper of the Anon Flame
Who wanders hapless, if untamed.
Let them come, all for to spite her,
Those who mock and feed her fire.
Every tear that turns to mirth
Swells the oceans foamy girth.
If but the sun and moon could speak,
Or softly kiss the tawny cheek,
Oh the words that would describe
The galaxies within her eyes.
Forged by night and day akin
And naught to grace this path again.
Every prick and bloody drop
Has scarred the road on which she walked.
Raven hair and unkempt will,
Bridal not her passions still.
But let the weilder run astray
From the chains they silent lay.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Set upon the winds a-wild.
Keeper of the Anon Flame
Who wanders hapless, if untamed.
Let them come, all for to spite her,
Those who mock and feed her fire.
Every tear that turns to mirth
Swells the oceans foamy girth.
If but the sun and moon could speak,
Or softly kiss the tawny cheek,
Oh the words that would describe
The galaxies within her eyes.
Forged by night and day akin
And naught to grace this path again.
Every prick and bloody drop
Has scarred the road on which she walked.
Raven hair and unkempt will,
Bridal not her passions still.
But let the weilder run astray
From the chains they silent lay.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
The Steward
Fiddle all your pretty things
With guilt, or gilt, or fairy wings.
And speak so bold of where you stand
That all my tears must so offend.
All to wrought or rot in kind.
If only he could cage my mind,
The lord of pride who keeps this hall,
Where feathers of the seraph fall.
So undeserving I should be.
Yet less deserving surely he
Who woke upon this winter's night;
The reason being only spite
Of greater things that fill the fire.
Such unbelief hath lit the pyre.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
With guilt, or gilt, or fairy wings.
And speak so bold of where you stand
That all my tears must so offend.
All to wrought or rot in kind.
If only he could cage my mind,
The lord of pride who keeps this hall,
Where feathers of the seraph fall.
So undeserving I should be.
Yet less deserving surely he
Who woke upon this winter's night;
The reason being only spite
Of greater things that fill the fire.
Such unbelief hath lit the pyre.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Traitor
The fire that consumes this wretch,
Cast aside for worthless crimes,
Against a king that long torments
After will and body die.
I scream my curse up to the rain
That pelts my bloody face and hands
Still held captive by a voice
Inside my mind
That is his and never mine.
Shrill and absent thoughts that bite
And sting my soul in darkness wrought
A lord of loneliness and fools
Inscribed in time upon my wall,
His courtly fool and jester fair.
Raise me up and hang me high
Or let me fall but never cry,
Never bring your accusation
Down on my head
My misinterpretation read
So wearily,
But let me now forever be
The Wind, and Clouds, and Storm and Sea
In one word,
Your treachery.
©2012 MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Cast aside for worthless crimes,
Against a king that long torments
After will and body die.
I scream my curse up to the rain
That pelts my bloody face and hands
Still held captive by a voice
Inside my mind
That is his and never mine.
Shrill and absent thoughts that bite
And sting my soul in darkness wrought
A lord of loneliness and fools
Inscribed in time upon my wall,
His courtly fool and jester fair.
Raise me up and hang me high
Or let me fall but never cry,
Never bring your accusation
Down on my head
My misinterpretation read
So wearily,
But let me now forever be
The Wind, and Clouds, and Storm and Sea
In one word,
Your treachery.
©2012 MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Amused
Left alone with me to wander
On a shore of barren things.
Fill us up for but to squander
All the passions that we dream.
Forsake our beauty for misfortune,
Your tongue a warrior's fatal sword.
Apprehend and charge the woman,
Her face the sin that you abhor.
Tear the heart eternal beating,
Logic in love's glory fades.
Turn the dance,
Your soul is cheating
Behind the simple masquerade.
All the while ghosts are eating
At the table you have laid.
Now bring the flowers,
Black and bruised,
Dead for hours,
Are you amused?
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
On a shore of barren things.
Fill us up for but to squander
All the passions that we dream.
Forsake our beauty for misfortune,
Your tongue a warrior's fatal sword.
Apprehend and charge the woman,
Her face the sin that you abhor.
Tear the heart eternal beating,
Logic in love's glory fades.
Turn the dance,
Your soul is cheating
Behind the simple masquerade.
All the while ghosts are eating
At the table you have laid.
Now bring the flowers,
Black and bruised,
Dead for hours,
Are you amused?
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
YesterYear
Tonight I cast into the void
All the strings that held so tight
And kept such dreams as ours aloft
Amidst the river's sparkling night.
If all the earth were gold to buy
Every thought that I might sell,
Never would I speak a word,
Nor gallant write of roving tale.
But keeping all my secrets dear
To bury them as if for naught.
Silent speaking to the soul
A rumored land of shadows wrought.
The brink where on we foolish stood,
Wrapping cloak about our phrase;
For deep within the tawny wood
Came forbidden journey's play.
Alas, twas written by his hand,
That drew us nigh with dust and flame,
Courting all with eyes of fair
He led us on to our disdain.
When all was done the severed threads
Were cast into our inky fear.
Yet quietly we willed them drown
Into the void of yesteryear.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
All the strings that held so tight
And kept such dreams as ours aloft
Amidst the river's sparkling night.
If all the earth were gold to buy
Every thought that I might sell,
Never would I speak a word,
Nor gallant write of roving tale.
But keeping all my secrets dear
To bury them as if for naught.
Silent speaking to the soul
A rumored land of shadows wrought.
The brink where on we foolish stood,
Wrapping cloak about our phrase;
For deep within the tawny wood
Came forbidden journey's play.
Alas, twas written by his hand,
That drew us nigh with dust and flame,
Courting all with eyes of fair
He led us on to our disdain.
When all was done the severed threads
Were cast into our inky fear.
Yet quietly we willed them drown
Into the void of yesteryear.
©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.
A Slight Notation
Amidst the bitter tempest sky
Reflects a deeper heart than I
Did ever think to see.
From the creatures' mouths and minds
Words that pull the threads of time;
Darkened tendrils, fingers blind,
All reaching forth for thee.
Whilst fairie glen with tremor faded.
Gypsy's eye was poorly fated
Far upon the tattered, worn, e're wrestling sea.
Drink was poured into the flame,
The world and sun were bandits' game.
We watched as he consumed the fame
That fortune bought for free.
The secrets kept well in the wall
With faces lonely for the fall,
And parchment written all for one.
Yet all for him was she.
Framed by nymphen voice ill boding,
They wandered nigh and here and lonely,
Keeping watch for all there was
But knowing naught of me.
All the moons could cry "alas!".
Gaze deep into the earthen glass
That wakened world may look upon
The substance of a dream.
©2012 MLowe, All Rights Reserved
Reflects a deeper heart than I
Did ever think to see.
From the creatures' mouths and minds
Words that pull the threads of time;
Darkened tendrils, fingers blind,
All reaching forth for thee.
Whilst fairie glen with tremor faded.
Gypsy's eye was poorly fated
Far upon the tattered, worn, e're wrestling sea.
Drink was poured into the flame,
The world and sun were bandits' game.
We watched as he consumed the fame
That fortune bought for free.
The secrets kept well in the wall
With faces lonely for the fall,
And parchment written all for one.
Yet all for him was she.
Framed by nymphen voice ill boding,
They wandered nigh and here and lonely,
Keeping watch for all there was
But knowing naught of me.
All the moons could cry "alas!".
Gaze deep into the earthen glass
That wakened world may look upon
The substance of a dream.
©2012 MLowe, All Rights Reserved
Friday, July 6, 2012
Oh Maddened Spere
Frigid mask and so self centered,
Late cocooned in silence strong.
Broken vows or spirit gifted?
Lovely, pure or mad and wrong.
Insanity, that perfect calling;
Things they never understood.
For what, so different, dimly bred,
Could be of any gracious good?
A mind so lost in all a-drifting
That never shall it whole return.
Dazed, a dreamer, ever lifting.
Unto your bloody pyres burn.
Every page beset with ink,
Or all thoughts girdled with delight,
Will cry with bitter tears and many
For the maiden of the night.
Soon enough none will forgive,
So lost is she inside the sphere
That leads to worlds, all unaccounted,
By music she alone can hear.
©2012 MLowe, All Rights Reserved
Late cocooned in silence strong.
Broken vows or spirit gifted?
Lovely, pure or mad and wrong.
Insanity, that perfect calling;
Things they never understood.
For what, so different, dimly bred,
Could be of any gracious good?
A mind so lost in all a-drifting
That never shall it whole return.
Dazed, a dreamer, ever lifting.
Unto your bloody pyres burn.
Every page beset with ink,
Or all thoughts girdled with delight,
Will cry with bitter tears and many
For the maiden of the night.
Soon enough none will forgive,
So lost is she inside the sphere
That leads to worlds, all unaccounted,
By music she alone can hear.
©2012 MLowe, All Rights Reserved
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