Unkindness

All we have done

is that which

you

have shown us.

 

Here, in this cage,

in view of the sun and sky,

the wind puffs at my wings,

teasing like a

mischievous imp.

 

I cannot sing.

I will not cry.

And I will

not stop

pulling at these

chains.

 

And yet,

when I dream of

flying

with my brothers,

and finding a mate,

and hunting

on the high winds

of a glorious summer

 

Together,

you call us unkind.

All we have done

is that which you’ve

shown us.

The Lovely Eyes of Death

The lovely eyes of Death were dark,

no white in them to see.

She passed me in the marketplace

and smiled and winked at me.

She fought me on the battlefield

but saw me safely home.

And holds my hand when traveling

as o’er the world we roam.

Revealing mortal wounds that we inflict on girls and boys,

Her laughter rings displeasing at whatever she destroys.

Sometimes when she is holding me,

she’s gazing at the sea,

but is the sunlight dying there for her,

or is it me?

I know one day she’ll look at me and say to me, “It’s time.

“So kindly end your story now,

and rhyme your final rhyme.”

Until that day I hope to fill the world

with works of worth,

Death’s lovely eyes the last I see,

ere I return to earth.

My Childhood Nightmare Wants a Kiss

My childhood nightmare wants a kiss.

He would not be denied.

He chased me ‘cross the bitter winter sea

with rolling tide.

He chased me through the wooded hills

and though I tried to hide,

he wanted it so badly that he

hunted with a pride.

He chased me down from northern climes

into the humid south.

“Come here, my child!” he yelled downhill,

“and give me your sweet mouth!”

He chased me from exotic east

to more pedantic west.

He chased til I could run no more

and granted me no rest.

And so I turned to face him,

ragged, dirty, out of breath.

His face was moonlit, shining eyes

a glazed, glaring eldreth.

My childhood nightmare got the kiss

he would not be denied,

and as he touched my cheek he wiped

the dark, sad tears I cried.

I took his face in hands of love

and kissed him.

And he died.

 

Undead Reborn

 

Seeking succor from her dreams,

hear the restless vampire screams.

Dreams of stakes and silver knives.

Hunters harvest undead lives.

Tears of red in eyes of gold,

warm red blood and pale flesh cold,

turn to embers, ashes, dust.

Desperate hands through packed earth thrust.

Too late now, the gurgling sighs

sing the dirge as evil dies.

Now the victory light of sun

shines upon the chosen one.

But somewhere across the sea,

fledgling fanged ones now roam free…