Sunlight on stone,
fading,
a royal carpet of vermillion,
lighting the wind’s way
into the
empty chamber
to swirl the
thick dust.
We no longer pray here,
but the
spirits
still come.
© Alfred W. Smith Jr.
Day: January 18, 2015
The Familiar
Are you afraid of the
dark
or what
waits
within it?
What is
the thing
with
no eyes
that
sees you
walking blindly?
oh, it hears
your pounding heart,
and it listens,
disturbed by the
noise
of your
silent scream.
The noise
must
stop.
© Alfred W. Smith Jr.
Sorry I Scribbled
I’m sorry I scribbled.
I mean, I know how
you
like
everything
inside the / line\s
I’m sorry I scribbled over
your
picture of what
we
should look like.
I’m sorry if I used the
wrong color.
I’m sorry that I don’t
conform
to
Crayola’s decrees…
But what the hell.
I’m innovative.
Pass me the green one…
© Alfred W. Smith Jr.
Throne of Armageddon
Empty scabbards
and
broken swords
carelessly tossed
before the
empty throne
Dead torches hang on dampened walls
lighting
Death’s way in perfect
darkness
Distant thunder,
softly rumbling, makes
gentle inquiries,
whispering names of
souls long
vanquished.
All is
ended.
All is
lost.
Behold the throne
of
Armageddon
who no longer
reigns
© Alfred W. Smith Jr.
Modern Day Tolkien…
The Habit: or There and Back Again…and Back Again…. and Back Again…and Back Again….
Beyond Panic 