Sword

cold winter snows echo, off the

surrounding withering breath;

as death walks like frost’s sense

coherent, swords Avail! Sound the forge,

tonight we explore, the tampering blade…

 

…it is like the cold cut in winter’s gaze

along steel, calm, blue and held in ways

that behoof the man, common day’s praise

like a high note feather following gravity down

down lullaby, let the baby become pure

 

along the epistle, music played waves

love returns, yet may not stay, yet –

string notes echo vibration’s wonder

like center sphere’s circumference wheeling

the fate in time, intrinsic colours

 

and as one can be, happily, in glee ¿

around nothing, empty, praise thee ?

but as the song, moves on, so do we

 

sorrow’s guidance arrow lost in depths

shadow’s steady marrow pulsing breaths

out and in the bones it collects

fire dragon smouldering what’s still left…

 

…Horseman arise! I see death walking…

 

what is Evil? something real

experience death cutting all your joy

yet alive eternally to your own noise

seldom doth thine praise abode

search they will to the bone

 

riding plagues in toxic waste

common taste, quick let us race

yet farther down, wells relate

to no this, nor that, all compensates

for not what is, is what is not!

 

sing the light rider’s hum

experience the fiddle and drum

for surrender, depth fathoms no-one

yet brings peace under the Sun

Solar Body talk, as a Sun

 

light daffodils waying in breeze defeat

as substance photosynthesizes, retreats

for night has come to the trumpets horn

war torn on liberties fabric

beneath above as below outreach

 

walk, run, gallop! to the hills!

the time of hell is now willed

forming shadows shapes condora picking

into the limbs alive, death surprise

all you know, doesn’t compromise!

 

Have you known the wells?

it is only Styx and Stones

and lurking bones marrow cores

from saving nothing but home

yet no heart, o so alone

 

faster, walk, slower run, evil towers

showering Sorcery destruction powers

grid-work held as the door

but Horse’s death chariot awaits the gate

to bring you around the Sun

or down to the Styx, alone Son?

 

Evil Good, Good is never Evil

so making what is evilly good

but good is not evil, -good

is still corrupted by

good evil that is good then

 

songs breathed the the Flow

a glow, a fire, radiant sorrow

like dancing note strings

singing, what does my heart sling?

or is it all temporal things?

 

No-way, no-home, death always is a cloud

mist fog before the rains

nothing but down-low to save

so pave breaths way

for good is not the day!

 

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About up2quark

I rest with silence and awareness; believing in hope for a brighter future, I feel compelled to write any words that excite me in the spontaneous moments in life! So this is my work; hope you enjoy my musings.
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