Posts Tagged ‘Dark Fantasy’

We’ve been savagely chased from yesteryear,
Demons of loss and pain at our backs,
Like Jack Russell’s nipping at our heels,
Chunks of us left in the last year,
Physically and emotionally,
Not all survived the rout,

Yet we must look forward,
It’s a mad new world,
Time waits for no man,
The days ahead are in flux,
Waiting to be crystallized by new experience,
New faces and affairs to be held in glass,

But take note,
It is yet unclear if this new year will also maim,
That same glass may be jagged,
But our assault must be sustained,
For time will not tarry,
So we ought face the year like a hopeful sunrise.

Throughout this thousand year war,
Numberless threads have been severed,
Both political and carotid,
Every fall gives rise to a cult,
A coven of worms,
A morbid congregation drawn together,
Each elongated creature both priest and disciple,

Each slain prince or pauper,
Becomes a temple of writhing masses,
Another prone parish of rot,
Erected on putrescent pillars,
Ribcages holding up their necrotic chapels,
Flesh is chewed away in ritual feasts,
Marrow supped like wine from bone,

These cultists are no fiends though,
It’s simply the way of the world,
Entropy and taxes being the only certainties,
Even the most triumphant and grand of us,
Shall be naught but a temple for the worms,
Little more than grisly alms,
Meat for the cult.

The party is over,
The feast and potations are consumed,
Only crumbs of crackling and wine vapours remain,
The bodies have scarpered,
And now comes the crash,
And plunge you shall,

Fatigue comes like a plague,
The joy from before feels like a dream,
Yesterdays consumption has become a force of gravity,
Roast beef like boulders on each eyelid,
The sofa is your workbench for the day,
And post-revel debilitation is todays vocation.

A pair of flames were born,
Twins in their splendour,
But combusted too far betwixt,
Their heat is similar but miles apart,
Flames of a different paradigm,
A different kind of heat in each heart of embers,
One azure and the other ruby,
They are attracted over fields of poppies,
Viridian yet barren all at once,
A yard of barbed wire and pitch,
Will they find one another?
Or will they exhaust themselves?
Expended in the danger of it all?

Ladies and gentlemen,
Younglings of every ilk,
Step right up,
To our humble abode of trifles,
Our house of silly little playthings,
A prison of giggles and vivacity,
We’ve got a toy for every ill,
Teddies and rocket ships and broken bits,
Plastic soldiers all on parade,
Building sets and clowns and consumerism,
So walk our halls of fun and dead smiles,
Shiny eyes following you as you peruse,
Oh yes indeed,
You should see it at night,
These shelves writhe like a gaggle of eels,
Wood and plastic coming to life.

Hello there inmates!

How are you all getting on? Not frozen yet then I hope! It’s been a bit of a chilly one this week hasn’t it? At least it has been here on this island. It’s starting to feel a bit more like Christmas. So that’ll be feeling perpetually cold and having no cash whatsoever. There are certainly enough bright coloured lights everywhere! Happy holidays and such! I feel like my cynicism seems to be flowing at full power right now so I’ll apologise on that point. I’m loving life I swear! Haha!

So, speaking of loving life, who wants to listen to some music? Did anybody see the clue to todays musical theme? I thought it was a pretty good one, if I do say so myself.

Well, the musical theme for today is fantasy! Ahh of course! The realm of elves and orcs and short people with hairy feet. It’s one of my favourite genres in almost all mediums, behind horror of course. I’ve been fascinated with fantasy since my early years. Reading ‘The Hobbit’ and ‘The Sword of Shannara’ books back in the day definitely had an impact my interests going forward. I’ve written many poems about several facets of fantasy. From magic to mythical creatures, from wizards to worlds that don’t exist. It’s the quintessential essence of escapism, in much the same way as science fiction can be. I just think I’d rather be able to wield magic than fly a spaceship. How about you guys? Also, want to hear some music? I knew you would!

Join me as we delve into the musical minds of mythic artists the world over!

Spellblast – Goblin’s Song
http://www.spellblast.com/

TheFatRat – Fly Away
https://twitter.com/ThisIsTheFatRat

Eluveitie – Omnos
http://www.eluveitie.ch/

Nightwish – Amaranth
https://www.nightwish.com/

Aviators – Traveler’s Song
https://soundoftheaviators.bandcamp.com/

And there we have it for another week!

Did any of these songs whisk you away to another world unlike our own? I hope they cast a spell on you! I hope you enjoy each of these artists and check out their other music as well! They all deserve the attention and I’m sure you’ll enjoy them as well!

Speaking of enjoying stuff, let’s have some social media links. The asylum has a page over on Facebook, an account on Instagram and a page over on Twitter as well! Consider following me over on those pages too for poem clues ahead of time and other nonsense! Also, if you enjoy what I do here at the asylum, please consider supporting me over on the Ko-Fi page too! Thanks for everything!

Until next week, have a very crazy day inmates!

Her words were as an errant furnace,
Viciously melting me down,
Magma in her breath,
A suns core of spite and rage,
Each word burns hotter than the last,
Broiling blow after blow,
Tangent after criticism,
Tangerine flowers and brass fall from me,
Depositing hearts and memories in scoria on the floor,

I am now only a pile of ash,
Bestrewn across this wasteland of a life,
Tired and stale,
But this won’t be the end,
Not this time,
That same fire that destroyed me shall remake me,
I’ll be a phoenix this time,
Erupting like a volcano to new heights,
And I’ll lay waste to your animus this time.

It was unclear what invoked this detonation,
The world has many stray matches,
A look,
A word,
A revelation,
But erupt it did nonetheless,

All I can glimpse is burning confetti,
Metal shards of a man,
Sharp as a tongue of a soul in pain,
The heat feels like tar on the skin,
As if I can touch the heartache in its mucus,
Munitions from a heart and mind imploded,

But observe,
Those piles of singed petals and broken glass,
That is what it looks like,
When a life becomes shrapnel,
Reduced to a sorry wreckage,
No phoenix here.

There’s a bit of Hyde in all of us,
Another personality,
A ferocious side with darkened eyes,
An internal antithesis of the good citizen,
We’re capable of both the greatest and foulest of deeds,
Holding your hand one moment,
Chewing it off the next,
Stealing and killing one another,
Maiming and slaughter upon our tongues,
We pretend to be little Jekylls,
But its a lie,

We’re a coin with two sides,
And just like the good old doctor,
It all comes down to illicit chemicals,
Endorphins and uppers,
Dollar notes to the veins,
A warm body to savour,
We become beasts to get what we want,
Ofttimes indistinguishable from evil,
Commit sins for the most miniscule of scraps,
To colour in grey lines,
We become Mr Hydes.

There is a heat within a creative,
A golden core,
Cultivated by quills and easels,
Stoked by pokers of artistic intent,

It’s a kiln,
But in place of flames,
A conflagration of purpose,
There are constellations of mental images,

Nebulae of inkblots,
And verse on the tails of comets,
A sun exploding held in stasis,
A masterpiece created piecemeal.