I once met a woman, In a side street sideshow, All lavender veils and candles, A purported soothsayer of old, A fortune teller,
It was as if she saw the future, As if an eye had opened upon her brow, She spoke of things that hadn’t happened, Conversations and marriages and heartbreaks, Crashes and illnesses and revels,
She spoke with such artistry and vim, Firmly and sincerely, I could only believe her, It could only be the truth, Breaks in the dream,
She had also seen the end, Not of you and I, But of everything, Despite my requests and coin, She would not reveal how.
There is tell of a book, An evil lexicon, A book of dark lore, Wisdom that was hidden for a reason, Foreboding chants heard within its closed spine, Bound with leather a little too familiar,
It seems to throb as if alive, Animated by some foul dogma, Its pages are a parade of atrocities, Chapter after chapter of malice, There are spells and rituals aplenty, Devilry and runes galore,
It calls to the dreams of the mad, It wants to be read, To be liberated, Though gnostics and warlocks are drawn to it, Are they claiming knowledge? Or are they moths to a flame?
Our lifeforce is a potion, Brewed by some unseen witch, Mother Nature in a pointy hat, Following a recipe as old as time, All manner of ingredients are sown, Rosebuds and onyx and nightshade, Moonlight and sunshine, Thorns and salt and belladonna, Carrion bird feathers and puppy dog tails, Only the best components, To create this marvel of alchemy, A heartbeat in liquid form, Imbibed within the womb, And coughed up upon our deathbed.
As I sip this lukewarm cider, I’d rather be high on fantasy, I long for it, To elope to another world, A land of swords and escapist sorcery,
I’d change class for sure, I could be a magus, A shifty rogue or a spellsword, Away on my own hero’s journey, Against this dark lord or that giant,
I could be a questing knight, The likes of Lancelot and Galahad, Saving innocents and putting villains to the blade, A symbol of gallantry in silver plate, Foil to the me in this mundane world,
In that land of magic and marvels, I’d rather brave dragons and liches, And abscond from me, Anything to escape this purgatory, This grey world,
To read is to commune with nature, A very personal ritual, Authors breath life on to these fragments of lumber, Rejuvenation via ink and quill, Your eyes scan across the veins of oak, Hallucinating as you go line by line, Seeing stars and lands never formed, A veritable opera of sundry speakers, Worlds of every ilk imaginable, Fashioned by a writers madness, Literary paths left for you on parchment, The skin of the forest, Books are the trees talking to us, Mother Natures voice, Translated by shamans of the written word.
The king left on a grand crusade, A campaign ‘gainst that dragon or this demon, I’m his regent, His steward, I was to warm this volcanic throne, Until his triumphant return,
Yet the kingdom rots without him, As if its lifeblood has been drained, The peasants grow skeletal and despondent, The very earthen foundations of our nation crumble, Our royal academia lectures only madness now, Our lone remaining knight now rides a pale horse,
Look yonder to the fields under my reign, And see that they are barren, As if a royal magic is dispelled, This charge seems a curse, He bade me this unwanted duty, The crown mocks me from its waiting pedestal.
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!
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!
You see this creature atop my shoulder? This fiend of mana, This decrepit homunculus, This breathing effigy of a devil, Neither feminine nor masculine, Something akin to an insect blended with a raven,
Be not afraid, For it is beholden to me, It is my familiar, My arcane assistant, Summoned to support occult exertions, Clutching my nape with bestial claws,
Its feral eyes help seeing mystical patterns, Its hand able to weave magicks beyond mortal ken, As abominable as this thing appears, It was created to serve, To aid, A sorcerers best ally.
I once spent an evening with an angel, And heavenly she was, Aside from some goetic tattoos here and about, But something transpired, A force took hold of her,
The conversation turned increasingly esoteric, Her words became sulphuric heat, Forked tongues in each breath, Onyx veils covered her eyes, Stifling any humanity,
Her face became a mask, Contorted and almost pliable, An unknown presence lay behind it, A baneful weight, A malevolence,
The air felt heavy in her presence, Like breathing in spiteful ash, I asked her what she was, She grinned, And those were no longer human fangs.
I once met a being of glamour, Fresh from the shores of Arcadia, A sylvan lady, Slender and refined in stature, Cloaked in every form of botany, Beautiful yet somewhat off, Verging upon androgyny,
Her hair was overgrown ivy, And her eyes were frosted alabaster, Her gaze felt ever like barely stifled fury, A mother bears spirit married to the fae, Natures proud hostility held fast in her voice, The elements danced like sprites upon her silver tongue, And from that tongue came a harsh attitude,
To her kind, The human world was profane, An aberration, We are pollution given a body, The antithesis of her creed, It was difficult to argue, So I gave myself to the green.
WorldofHarley 