Mirror unto sky

Silvered, circled glass, ringed by places high, as fine a place to live as to bide.

An eye to stare unto the aether and endless spaces, moved by moon-tide and kissed by whispered winds alone.

Beneath the glass lies who knows what may, iris by light and pupil black at dark of day. Glamours to charm and beasts  by droves to slay.

Lost and by all time forgot, all the deeds of Lords begot, the wending depth-bound way hither conjures my thought this day.

In clear waters to forget of rage and woes, to find again my way to gentler roads, to twine thought with stream and become as one and pass as it may go. Flowing back unto glories past and foretold.

Oh the road.

Oh the road it calls me! It whispers in my ears to leave it all and just go and be. How wondrous fair must it be to live so free?

Leave the cage of managed time. Find a love and cease your feigned interest in work and modern world to mime.

Pack lightly, walk upon the road or at its side. Patient in the forest bide for the land it shall provide.

Come unto the beach dance among the shells, hide a while among the tides, forget a time your fear of condemnation and the burning hells.

Camp upon the mountaintop, and feel the pull of the fool’s wafting drop. Feel the primal thrill and let your heart grow wings to leap or cringe in fear to stop. 

In the endless rolling fields lay thee down down in a stand of heather and see what visions the day yields freed of endless dragging tether. 

By the river pause and catch a fish, mayhap it’ll be magic and grant you your fondest wish!

Oh the road it calls and I yearn so to go. To travel hither, yon, to and fro!

But the chains of duty bind and in time I think that I shall find, twas but another Road to travel, this of toil by hand and heart and mind.

I shall stop my ears and keep my way. Without regret at the end down to rest my head shall lay.

Blackbound.

This is a new style for me. Please comment and give me any tips you think would help me improve. Its a revision of something I wrote in 12th grade but the original was a disaster. Its supposed to be two voices speaking against eachother and I’m not great at pulling off a modern voice, I’m kindof old-school when it comes to poetry.

*****

All the world is bound in black. Shrouded be the road both forward and back. We stumble on through life with hearts so sore and conscience alack.

Whither hence be the olden ways of love and earth? Where be the gentle priest who speaks not of wealth and wrath but preaches the way of the dove?

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That fucker went off over there, he’s buying a new whip and styling his hair and diddling all the congregants fair.

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Where be now the wise wizard to light the lantern way? His light that warded all from all the darksome hell and decay as demon and devil before his will were slain.

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The tramp’s up there on the corner, drinking from a paper bag. His staff got rotten and his book he pawned for weed. See the bits of gum and food there in his beard? 

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Where be gentle beauteous maiden, who loves but once and loves so true?

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She’s in the bushes opening her legs dude, you know she’s charging cheap don’t you?

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Whither the knight with shining sword and armour upon his glorious steed, to whom all honour may be trusted?

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The horse is glue man, the sword and tin suit got rusted through and busted.

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Wither now the Christian God with his commandments set in stone astute?

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No idea bro, he got retired, fool’s been put on mute.

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Black before and shadow far ahead and behind. Can we once more the true way find? Elder Grove or Christian Church, to find again what in life is truly of worth.

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Quit your bitching asshole, the world works and it’s mostly whole. Everything may be black but have you seen how well the kids can hack?

*

Keep your council silly fiend. The land endures even unto when from thy alchemical toys thou at last come to be weaned. 

This my final word, I speak now from the heart, let rest the troubles of today and look again unto the start. When love was all and the land us as her children bore. May we afore the rubicon remember and return to her once more.

*

Yea dude, fuck you too

Clouded dawn.

The dawn today is grey, angels’ tears stream down as diamond shards down from silver sky.

I lay back down to dream, yet unquiet, my mind worries at its every seam. I doze a while and silent, almost waking, drift that I mistake in the much fogged windows mists of elder times with mere muggy steam.

A raven bird circles yet on high, sure tis one of the Danna who knows the trick to fly. How far into fairy am I now become? Shall my feet yet bear me back from whence I come?

I leave my walls in slumber’s flight, now to the forgotten forest path and all is right.

I feel the earth and leaves shifting beneath my feet, sweet is the smell of deep earthen places an mist lay all about and too the song of owls my coming to greet.

I walk beneath the trees, high as temple arches, trunks of oak and birch, all I greet and on my dream-self marches.

I come then to a fork within my path, where withered crone leans upon her black, gnarled staff. Her have I seen here often times before, she often darkest council brings but catch her at her game and the heart for her blessing sings.

She points me to the ways and as the sighing wind, she speaks, one way to comfort and one way to toil for he who seeks. 

I know this trick, she tried it once before, the way comfort is but false, nought I so gain be earned.

I take the toiling path, as I shall again and more for all my lives returned. 

I doft my hat to you lady, well have I my lessons learned. 

Wandering

In shadows found and well for you we never meet, long this road hath trod my weary feet.
Watchers wary in the dark hear my song and well do hark, i have no time for rest and wine for ever into shadow the road does twine.
O’er hill and dell, past purest well and unto grave mound fell. Fearless sure but heartless too. Tis my fate, i shall not rue.
Whither hence i cannot say, i shall not know nor rest until my final day, when i shall lay my weary head down by the dusty way.
To seek the sleep of ages past a new crumbling road to find and walk at last, again and again and ever onward into yawning dark.