Category: Poetry

The Lord of Fire

Higher and higher,
The Lord of the Fire:
He seeks out his sire;
He’ll find what he’s lost.
He’ll break it and burn it;
He feels it deserves it.
He’ll have his revenge
No matter the cost.

Higher and higher,
This Lord of the Fire:
He’ll burn in his ire,
Because he was crossed.
A father who loved him
Was a dream far above him;
And he’ll have his revenge,
No matter the cost.

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Honesty

Won’t somebody say it:
The thing that’s on our minds?
I’m waiting for some honesty
And I’m sick of all the lies.

I’ll be the one to say it
If everyone else hides;
I’ll try and speak honestly…
But I wish I was more wise.

Helpless

The nurses come and go;
He cannot tell them no.
His daughter sits and wonders,
But he cannot say he loves her.

He’s trapped within his head;
How he wishes he was dead!
His life’s already passed him by:
And he can only wonder why.

A Crown of Pyrite Wrought

They were arguing again.
How many of the neighbors hear?
My door is locked, but I can see it
When looking through the keyhole:
Same old bullshit.
Why do they even bother?
Getting up in the morning;
Painting on a smile…
At least while there’s daylight.
But when the night comes —
Lo and behold!
There’s monsters under the beds
And they’re children just like us
But pretending not to be
And it’s ripping us apart.
‘Cause they’re all high and mighty —
Except when they are not:
They play as Gods to our humanity
And in the middle we are caught
As they vie for their supremacy;
For a crown of pyrite wrought.

Would-Be Villain

Don’t. Ask.

 

“Ah, the would-be villain!
So glad we meet at last.
I’ve scheduled your execution
For in a week and a half.

I must say, dear Daniel,
I really am surprised.
Next you try to wreck the world,
Perhaps you should be supervised?

Not that this will occur again:
You had your chance and lost it.
Or really, I should rather say
You had your chance — and dropped it!

What a way to fail indeed!
To have such power in your hand,
And fulfill a prophecy
By being clumsiest in the land.

I suppose we should be thanking you
For your pure intent;
If only we had known before
Pure hatred was so potent!”

***

“It is good to finally meet you,”
Said the priest to chained Daniel;
“I have heard of how you freed
The once-demon Meristorol.

Do you know his story?
I find it much like yours.
He was angry, and found himself
Fighting the wrong wars.

His comrades called him “Meri” —
A nickname he despised;
And after one incident,
“Bloody” Meri in their eyes.

“Bloody” or not,
He was still a joke in person’s guise:
Just an angry being
That could offer no surprise.

But he met the priestess Aria,
And anger lost some hold;
For even ‘gainst his wrath,
She was kind and she was bold.

Her temple one day besieged, he found
He couldn’t leave her to death’s hands.
And so he sacrificed himself;
But that is not where his song ends.

For in his sacrifice,
He was victim to imprisonment:
To be freed, it was said,
By one of pure intent.

A crystal ball, the cage
To which he had been sent
Gave for him a chance
To think and to repent.

It’s said that on the day
That crystal breaks and bleeds,
The once-demon goes to heaven,
Well and truly freed.

This is the deed you’ve done;
This the thing you broke:
You’re a hero, my lad,
Even if to them you’re still a joke.”

***

They came for him at last:
Death had come his way.
He hesitated, and asked
After the priest the other day.

The guards looked at each other;
Then at him, and laughed.
“You’ve not had any visitors
For a week and a half.”