Still They Speak

Still they speak in whispers of the intangible Silver shadows crawling over the night-soaked walls Fall silent when I raise my head to listen.

Traces of Life

At great distances lies the secret to vision without movement Waves crashing in stop-motion—the artist’s strokes slow, deliberate— Press a button and the whole film plays in seconds Millennia compressed to a bite-sized chunk That still manages to get stuck in the throat Though we didn’t need to breathe, anyway.


Hands scarred and hardened with useStrike wood and metal to create steel magicCoaxing demon cries from the choking neckBending wails echo off marble ceilingsScreaming upward ever higher To pierce the veil and reign in new dayHeralded by thunder.A thousand kings march to slow deathPassing into shadow without care or thoughtSwept into the wash of timeAlready... Continue Reading →

Blog at

Up ↑