Tower of Cloud

Frame of bone

corporeal home

colder darker shell

To a

Chasm of void

soul devoid

depth ne'er can tell

Or a

Valley of fire

hissing pyre

crimson pulsing hell

Is a

Tower of cloud

 His shining shroud

A wispy golden bell

?

Questions real

none revealed

ever fill this well

Birds of Paradise

 

Forged in the vast chasm of Kīlauea,

The blood of the Earth.

Pele's fiery angst, dashed upon

An inexorable Pacific chill.

Perfection in chaos.

Life born through death;

Verdant resurrection

On these molten wings.

The sword is removed; the garden is broken

Once more by God's own image,

Casually defiling divinity;

Through crimes of good intention.

Eden's lament echoes

Through Hawaiian valleys,

Warbling in extinct songs.

Ghosts of the birds of paradise.

Vacant Days

Let the air come fill your lungs

Words once scrawled, now be sung.

There can be no better way

To try and fill these vacant days

Precious metal, yet be wrought

With gleaming gems, light we've caught

Let whatever be displayed;

They cannot fill your vacant days.

Farmers call or curse the sun

Whether storm, or loaded gun

What'er your trouble, be not dismayed

It cannot fill these vacant days.

Time shall flow; words shall pass.

Kiss of death like broken glass.

When the Lord comes and stays

I know he'll fill these vacant days.

Mariana

Being grand in loneliness

No embrace in darkness

under such pressure

can highest heights 

match that depth

some were made

to be alone.

Mercenary Love

Flamethrower mouth
Lash your scorching, searing tongue
Leave the burned out towers
As tombstone to this mercenary man