Please check out my short story sequel to the classic myth
on Wattpad. 7 short chapters. Leave a like or comments! A shortstory sequel to the classic myth.
Category: Connection
Prey Tell
What is it that keeps
your heart in chains
of darkness, graves,
voids, abysses,
and things
that cut and kill and burn?
Do not your
sleep-filled eyes
behold the sun?
the clouds?
the stars?
What calls your mind
to embrace
the gibbering shadows
that dance in
ever-tightening circles,
venturing up
to block your view of heaven,
laying waste to your
body and mind?
Yet in you
is the seed of song,
of love,
creativity.
Work the fire.
Forge the axe
that sunders darkness
with light
and sets you free.
Prey,
tell us you
are game.
Midnight Confessions
I pour the blood
from my heart
This ink
This lead
These pixels
Resurrected in
the empty church
of my life
Briefly seen,
my life imagined
as I once saw it
Fleeting
the feelings
of my flesh,
the senses of
my being
I kneel
in the empty, fragrant
darkness
The small wooden window
that leads to where I toss my sins
like wedding rice
never opens
I say them
all the same
They pile
like decaying petals
at my feet
multi-hued
multi-faceted
radiant with putrescence
They smell of illicit love
drunken torture
anger and loneliness
rage and despair
I press them to my heart
to stop the bleeding
absolving myself
resolving never to do
these things again
And so the risen sun
forgives me
But I have chosen death.
Untethered
Back then, the pit as warm red embers glow
But soon the fire and clawed, webbed wings will grow
The chains will melt that bind me far below
And soon for you, he’ll make the hot wind blow
See how against the moonlit sky he soars
Forgetting steely bars and oaken doors
The ship is no escape, set down your oars
There’s thunder, flame and lightning in his roars
See now the fire raining from the sky
So hot it cooks the skin and blinds the eye
And in the slaughter’s wake there is no why
Perhaps the flame will spare you if you cry
Untethered are we, fire in the cloud
As flying low we skim across the crowd
Our hearts within us passionate and proud
Our battle cries are ringing long and loud
When the alarum bells toll, run and hide
The armies intertwine and fight with pride
But warfare ever was a prickly bride
And vanquished now, we wash out on the tide
What sealed our fate remains a mystery
And now we are a different form of free
It struck us odd because we couldn’t see
That love is best to fight your enemy
The Treasure of Us
I found it quite by accident,
long after
you were gone.
A sunbeam
through the dirty window
was resting on it,
a celestial beacon
like
a navigator’s star,
or a savior’s herald.
Emotions stirred,
slow and sluggish,
a snail waking from sleep.
I hesitated, standing in
the acrid, arid attic dust,
my heart warring
with my mind,
Do I open
the treasure of us?
Long buried memories
of times past,
of youth and strength,
of love and passion,
of you smiling,
of us, in love.
I could open
the creaky wooden lid,
softened, like me,
by age.
I could grasp
the rich fabric to my cheek,
and twirl the bright coins in my fingers,
admiring their sparkle and flash
in the fading light.
I could let slip
through my fingers
the bloody cloth and the fool’s gold.
But it’s all of a piece, isn’t it?
And I would have
peace now.
I wiped my tears,
and left
the treasure of us
unopened.
I will hold it
in my heart,
in these last days.
For that is enough,
and somehow
more than riches.
Flowers for Wishes
Flowers for wishes
Flowers for dreams
Flowers for nothing
is all that it seems.
Flowers are falling
from heaven above.
Flowers are given
when one is in love.
Flowers for loneliness
Flowers for tears
Flowers for happiness
driving out fears.
Flowers are falling
in fields green and gold.
Flowers for young children
soon growing old.
Flowers for wishes
from out of the blue,
wishing you’d love me,
if wishes come true.
Of Muirgen, Lost at Sea
And now she wanders ‘neath the waves,
her raven hair pulled tight,
dark eyes upon the ocean floor.
She walks it through the night.
The ship she rode was shattered
on a rocky coral shore,
And now poor Muirgen, lost at sea,
will ride the waves no more.
Loved lass she was, and passing fair,
the sailors all did say.
No favor gave she when they’d stare;
she sent them on their way.
A new start was her final wish.
The village grew too small,
and passage bought with man and fish,
they sailed into a squall.
The vessel fought it bravely,
but the waves kept rising higher,
and cracked the mast and broke the deck,
and lightning started fire.
And there was Muirgen, lost at sea,
to bear a bitter fate.
She never would see land again,
but had no one to wait
at home upon the seaside shore
to grieve her soul’s demise,
no family or caretaker.
For Muirgen, no one cries.
They say that you can see her
when the moon and stars are nigh,
serene beneath the rolling surf,
the southern wind her sigh.
We sing of Muirgen, lost at sea,
the world no more to roam.
The current of her passing soul
will guide us safely home.
The current of her passing soul
will guide us
safely
home.
Cara-Cell
As autumn dies,
the bitter night wind
seeps into the stone walls
of what has become my
new home.
Hope of leaving
abandoned me.
She peers into the defeat
replete within my gaze,
and smiles
with
pleased and mocking scorn.
Dressed in midnight,
she comes,
a cream-skinned shadow
in silvered fog,
and tells me her name
is
Cara,
as if I cared,
as if defeat had somehow
changed to affection.
A Murder follows her,
and obeys her every gesture.
Her lacquered black nails point,
and soft eyes are
plucked like jewels from bone settings,
the screams
drowned by the eldritch music
of their raucous cries.
Why do you stay? she whispers in my mind.
Do you not see there are no stones to bar your path?
No chains, no locks, no guards to block your way?
Blind,
I stumble past
the warring scents
of lavender and carrion,
to roam
the shrouded night.
Exhausted,
helpless,
and alone,
by dawn
I find myself
returning
once again,
to where she freed me.
And barefoot, shivering,
crying ice-laced tears,
I walk the frigid riverbed
back to my
Cara-cell.
Kairi’s Serenade
Kairi comes down
by the
moonlit water
to play for
me
on random summer evenings
Not of this world any longer,
I cannot hear her,
but I can see.
Ah, there she is.
Fair and dark are her features,
Dark and fair is her song.
Spinning, playing a bright flourish,
she smiles at a memory,
and I feel the press of its
warmth against my molding bones
as if she hugged my spirit.
I wonder if she feels
my presence?
At times, when she plays,
there are tears.
I long to take them away, to
wipe them tenderly
and tell her all is well,
before we kiss,
before we part.
I hold onto that moment
that never was,
never will be,
and it will ever have to be
enough.
As Kairi turns to go,
the melody is severed,
and the notes are interwoven
with the stars.
I feel what I can only call
a smile pervade my being.
No, there will be no tears tonight,
just the song, dark and fair, it’s plaintive echo
traveling through the lichen covered
headstones of the forgotten, as Kairi, fair and dark,
vanishes into the mist, and over the hill.
Beauty Like Rivers
I love
your tranquility,
your clarity,
your smoothness,
your purity,
your brightness,
your changing moods
like shifting currents,
the sparkle of your eyes like
sun diamonds on peaceful water.
I love the dark somber mantle
of a reflected moon in your dark hair,
a midnight lake of cascading curls
that eddy about my ears when you
look down at me,
and the loam smell of your bare skin
against me.
I am
an autumn leaf
in love
with a spring,
drifting away on your
beauty like rivers.
Beyond Panic 