She shone, a pearl unveiled to all
With towers of opalescent hue
And streets of marble inlay
She was a jewel that shone too bright
For in their vanity, their vain indifference
The Atlanteans incurred the wrath of the Gods
Not only had they slandered the Imperium
They had forgotten where they came from
The crime: unforgivable
The sentence: death
Condemned to worse than annihilation
Their seed was to be lost to time
But the Gods in their own haughty retort
Made the same mistake as the Atlanteans
The result bringing Atlantis immortality
So in the end the city was made myth
Its citizens legends
They achieved the unachievable
If only we could find them to tell them
(Image courtesy of firedudewraith on deviantart.com)
She stems from the beginning of time
That place beyond places
A gathering of all that first was made life
Throughout eternity, she has nurtured
Resided over dreams, presided of sentience
She is Gaia; Earth; home, she is ours
And yet we hurt her, harm her
What kind of children are we?
(Image courtesy earthobservatory.nasa.gov)
He watched me through the mirror. I eyed him back. He was not me: different hair, nose, lips, but those eyes, those eyes. They observed me with a carefree lack of discipline that I once knew. There was a humour to them that I recognised, a sneering disinterest. They blinked in time with my own, moved with my own, rolled with my own and I knew they were my own. Another me mocked all that I was and all that I could have been. It enraged me.
After I smashed the mirror, broke it into a spider’s web of glass shards, the eyes were still my own. The only difference was that they weren’t crying.
(Image courtesy of Reno-Art on deviantart.com)
Crystal tears fall as ice
In glacial waves of pain.
Yet as the years tumble by
The hurt remains the same.
Is this the price, I hear,
The crowds of widows say?
Like crystal cut into us
The clearest of dark days.
The smile may say it
Gleaming eyes would suggest it
But joy is short lived
So long in the searching,
Daylight softly waning,
He stands before the tomb
A lifeless, tortured womb.
But hesitate, not he,
For love he must set free.
He takes the coffin lid,
And with effort does rid
To stand over his bride
Though in death she abide.
He wipes a tear away
To set her free that day,
But light once cast is gone,
He dallied over long.
And with a canine smile,
He’s missed for the long while,
She steals his life that night
With nought but vampire bite.
Twin souls in Hell to shine
And share the night divine.
(Image courtesy of Forget666 on deviantart.com)
A polar wind swept a snowflake away from the North
Over climates temperate it soared
Over emerald and sapphire and colours so bold
That the little snowflake begged to be set down
The wind knew what it would mean if it acquiesced
But it could not deny his Arctic passenger’s one request
So the wind abated and the snowflake fell
To land on an English meadow and melt into the land
The snowflake was not meant to be there, not yet
And the autumnal climate killed it
But it was the best thirty seconds of the snowflake’s short life