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  1. Send the Next Foe On

    by , 11-02-2006 at 05:41 PM (Ramblings from the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia)
    Send the Next Foe On

    I have walked that Razor’s Edge—
    Stared into the Face of Death—
    I have witnessed things best left unsaid—
    Stumbled to my feet again

    I have walked among Hell’s Flames—
    Heard the Nightmares shriek my name—
    I’ve ran out of people that I could blame—
    So I had to blame myself

    I have smelled the Smoke and felt the Dark—
    I’ve felt my Mind slowly begin to split apart—
    Nearly bled to
    ...
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  2. The Raven: Parody #2

    by , 11-02-2006 at 05:41 PM (Ramblings from the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia)
    The Raven: Parody #2

    Once upon an afternoon so dreary, with my body weak and weary,
    The eyes all red and bleary with watching for the mail;
    Hoping that the post would bring me, something calculated to spring me
    From my doldrums and the things we endure from broken dreams—
    From the cold emptiness that echoes from the shades of broken dreams—
    All this I wished and more.

    I spoke aloud to the evening air each line I’d written with great
    ...
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  3. Ninety-nine Steps

    by , 11-02-2006 at 05:41 PM (Ramblings from the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia)
    Message found on the Ninety-nine Steps

    Dreams are eldritch things,
    Made from cobweb silk frantically stitched together
    With the silver needles of desire.
    The end result of this desperate labor
    Is an ephemeral sheet that one claps closely about one’s trembling body
    As the ebon teeth of night devour the sun
    And one breathes one’s small sacrificial offering to Morpheus, son of Hypnos,
    Lord of all dreams.
    But one must beware,
    ...
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  4. Gothic

    by , 11-02-2006 at 05:41 PM (Ramblings from the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia)
    GOTHIC

    The Night descends like a living cloak.
    I want to scream, but the words just choke
    in my throat, no matter how hard I try.
    My ears are filled with bloodcurdling cries
    as Quasimodo dances to the ringing bells
    amid the smoke and the sulfurous smell.
    On the wall the thick, red blood drips down,
    where the Roman Legions ran me to the ground.
    A filed-toothed cannibal munches my brains
    from my polished skull; all that
    ...
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  5. Shadow Voices

    by , 11-02-2006 at 05:41 PM (Ramblings from the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia)
    Shadow Voices

    From the dark shadows of the hall
    Echoing silently, softly off the walls
    The voices drift to me as I sit in my recliner
    With my nose buried in a book.

    Although the voices are most insistent—
    I do not spare them a single instant,
    Nor raise my eyes from the printed page
    To even take a moment’s look.

    For the voices are but there to remind me
    Of all the bad things that would confine me.
    ...
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