More Pomes..

[Zirandorthel]

The title of this collection was too long to fit into the subject block, so it's below. As usual, comments appreciated.Quote:The Silver-Pink Star-Trail Of A Soul Lost In The Horror Of BirthThe Priestess – 21st of February 2005She lived on her ownExpecting nothing from nobodyWanted everything from everyoneThe shuffling of human heart-feet broke her easyShe shut herself awayEmpty in herselfSilence was unfamiliarThe pounding thudOf an inundating mental processFor the peopleShe forged a white stairShowing the way of virtueAnd the horrors hidden thereHe catches herShe sees his faceIn everythingLeering masque of ivoryThe cream is rottenShe is lostShe has lost her mindToo long a stony vigilMakes stalks out of eyesMakes sticks out of fingersMake the perfect machineTwisted and witheredThere was a womanAnd she lived on her ownCleric to the religion of lonelinessHer prayers resound todaySleep well, restless hermitPeace Out – 16th of February 2005The skies darkenOver my happinessThe black bombersWheel and diveTheir heavy loadsDrop from on highThe city is destroyedI sit in shock in the ruinsWhat cause?What motive?What have I done?Why was this done?I paint my faceShield my faceRenounce my victim-faceTake on the faceOf holy soldierI will assail their castleBring terror to their housesAvenge the death of my memoriesPour blood on the stepsOf the city of the harbingerAnd because their cause was injustMine will make heroesMine will gather armiesMine will shatter the earthNo-Chance Saloon(i) Till The End – 22nd of February 2005Too close we areToo close for the mind to be safeNeeds must we separateLose the second thoughtsWe’ll always have the hymn to the dark godThe god of promiseAnd the call to the crafter of stained-glass windowsOr his child, ratherWe’ll always have each otherTill the end, at leastI see now the reason for thisWe can’t lose each otherThe way we wereWe could have burned each other up(ii) Desolate – 23rd of February 2005Woke upFrom the livin dreamThe last daySeemed like only the firstThe twisted knot unravelsThe rope burn of sorrowScores my descending handsThe easy wayWould destroy our soulsThe hard way is bestThe only way to stop the rotTo keep each other closeWe can’t lose each otherI am afraid I will lose my mindThe Numb Future – 23rd of February 2005When I was young I wonderedWere the Trojans stupidDid they think the wooden horse a gift?Did they think the Greek nation departed?A cheap trick pulled down the walls of ParisNow I seeAll too wellIn the midst of warThe gift seemed a blessed reprieveA gift from the godsI see nowHow the wooden horse is rolled inUnleashing a scourge of warriorsRaping my heart-city with their bladesScouring the earth to rid themselves of all tracesOf the treacherous Helen of TroyAnd in my eyeThere is AeneasA brave future-carrying heroLeading the new wayPerhaps to Dido in CarthageAnd on to form RomeA new fort for my heart to dwell inBut then I trepidiseWho will the Goths beWhen they come?Box – 24th of February 2005Cram it all inStuff all of yourselfThe part you don’t needKeep the bit that doesn’t feelLock this safe of human woeBury it in chalky soilRemember noughtFind a stray thoughtExhume the boxAnd enclose it there tooThe practice of repressionCan only go for so longBetter to find your windmillAnd joust at it earlyAnd loseThan to estrange yourselfFrom your Sancho PanzaAnd to find yourself aloneWith a box you’ve forgotten how to open Wil NiderKampioen, Order of the Dead Stagg, Sovereign Order of TreesiaPrætorLotter of the Western LotCount e'VolsaarnThe Golden DarknessMarg bar IKEA-Derakht!Hurray for Progress