Archive for June, 2010

To better the one, dissolution of all –
ended not thus, thou? Each to her own path,
woven through fingered woods, o’er hill
and for the urban’d dales into the south,
following each their long road of Istus?
Silence and the oelven winter breaking
o’er tear’d farewells, and greetings ponderous
as Corellon’s first poem, days freezing
into the long pause of Celene. Goodbye
Ramses and Mal, Agnar to Sel farewell!
Dear Cyril good luck, May Gracchus hie
to his giants of lightning, the southern Lortmils.
shelter now in Telchurs gaze, the frosted glass,
your lonely song of learning too shall pass.


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To see, or not to see, your Thread’s ending? 
Houses veil collapsing and you, bowed to fours
hair matted, sleep mad and scurrying
to vials and pouches a knife, arrows a sword
to waive Doom’s reach anything, really, other
than the truth: a green dragon will have ye
eaten now!  Run screaming girl, hereafters
end has found you sweet, will bind yer meat to
to foulest maw, a swamp mothers crotch reeks
as raw as your shallow fate.  Clutch dear the final
breath, dear.  Grasp close your last unwinding shriek
e’en as Loki’s mounted thrall proofs your brutal
ending know thus dearest Qualmer; to brace
the trackless road as twere your final stage.

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Last eyes running made plain the forenights slaughter

Released by lidded throat to chosen hereafters

Bid by weavework’d hands to fetch their eyes

For long they too might weave own wretched lies.

Who’s minions we, who’s minions we?  Who? Who?

Awaited we the ritual call to prey

Diving fast to prick their eyes from broken day

and dine on orbs fill’d with sordid sights

An ambush, a massacre here in passed night

Who’s minions we, who’s minions we?  Who? Who?

Good killers we and true!  Heed we Masters

bidding sooth, and unto evil bastards

flay’d claw and peck a storm of feather’d hate!

Learning sated then a lesson none too late

Who’s minions we, who’s minions we?  Who? Who?

That despite our feather’d stations sake

save for weavework we’d enjoy a samefold fate

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