Kodama

I took a jaunt along a forest trail this morn,
And immediately I start to feel their eyes,
Tiny eyes like fireflies all about,
The Kodama,
Infantile spirits of the boughs,
Bodies of moss and sage,
Slinking trunk to trunk,
Trees all bound by shimenawa,
Homes of woodwork and onmyo,
Lithely they rush around in innocence,

I do not interrupt their games,
They mean no harm to a traveller,
But only to romp amongst the jade,
But as I have been told before,
Dare not nick the trees skin,
Lest their mischief becomes your misfortune,
A curse of a yokai perhaps,
Instead they whisper a prayer to this respectful walker,
A blessing from the spirits,
I leave the forest rejuvenated,

Their frolics continue amidst the mystical leaves.

Shinobi

The eve grows fatigued,
And your eyes along with it,
The shapes in the corners grow contorted,
Monsters hiding in the periphery,
Raving as you sweat bullets,
Shudders in your limbs,

You feel dark eyes upon you,
An undeniable weight,
Your heart rate begins to sprint,
But you dissuade your own chills,
T’was merely fear of the night,
You lay your head down,

Something sees from the rafters,
Not a revenant,
But a ghost of flesh,
An adept of a grim mantra,
A bladed shadow,
And it seems you’re the mark,

Sleep keeps its distance,
Shudders radiate in your marrow,
You clench your eyes taut,
Something drops to the floor,
Black garb flowing like water,
A shadow approaches its prey,

Eyes and edges behind obsidian silk,
Sleep of a kind is here.

Yokai

I kneel here out of the rain,
Beneath this temple canopy,
The walls wretch with the stink of an aramitama,
A structure corrupted in purpose,
The only soft light from rascal wisps amongst the bamboo,
Even the moon has forsaken this place,

The kami rise in angst,
They shriek to me in warning,
I hear it coming,
Heavy feet upon damp wood,
Demonic growls between drops of ichor,
The malevolent prescence of a yokai,

The dark sound is directionless,
A shroud approaching from all around,
Spiritual energy turned awry and malignant,
A hulk materialises,
An imposing figure with rage in its eyes three,
A dread oni,

My resolve is shattered at once,
I consider fleeing in to the rain,
Its stout feet impose closer,
The yokais horns shall feast well this night.

Kabuto

When the dark times descend,
And storms of spite form,
One must protect oneself,
So I put on my kabuto,
Crimson like blood pumping,
Crimson like pride,

It is armour,
A guard of the soul,
Of lacquered wood,
Iron plates,
To defend this anima,
The spirit of the artist,

This mengu,
This mask,
The face of the oni,
A visage of destruction,
But also honour,
Strength of spirit,

Detracting mosquitoes swarm,
Their critical barbs primed,
So I take my stance,
Sanguine blade ready,
Kabuto O Nugu?
I shall never surrender.