EtherealWonder

It never came wrapped, or adorned with a bow Nor was it ever presented to me by another It came on the wind, in an unfurled thought It breathed new life and existence into things that Otherwise would have been lost in cold darkness It created everything… colors, sounds, sensations And I held the key; I could create the world at will I built powerful empires just to watch them fall Calm oceans that one day would swallow the sky Anything I wished for, anything at all, came to be Nothing was left to the impossible, it was merely A thought that had yet to be discovered And then one day, I awoke And the Gift had disappeared I lost all tho

It was as though everything came to a standstill in that very moment. Every breath was hitched, every heartbeat stopped with a powerful ba-dump. All my sights were trained on what was before me and all thoughts were clustered around the emergence of a new kind of beautiful. This was the kind of beautiful that stole one’s breath, the kind that made one stop in their tracks just to admire. And what’s more, this beauty was a feeling. It was full, it was pure, and it was unique and genuine. I couldn’t help but freeze up as if I had just caught myself in the sights of a predator. It filled me, overtook and conquered me, leaving

    Werewolves blessed by a curse    Dancing in the silver moon    Eating marrow of bone    Once a pack, now alone    Running in the dusty light    Untouched by cold of night    Fur and muscle bound together    And skin strong as leather    Reunited though long departed    Bestial love never started    Silver sheen of hair vital    With black and blue might all    The forest hear the howls    Of two werewolves hooded    By human cowls    In their territory wooded    A pair for the storybooks    Lapping water of brooks    Chasing prey by dark and light    Bound forever they might    In lives nocturnal

I ripped open the sky just to give you her heart. You ripped open my chest just to rip me apart.

Shine your lantern into my eyes and look at me with the same intensity of our beginnings, as we mined through dirt and bedrock, seeking lost treasure and ill-gotten fortune. Love, the walls of these mines are closing in on us, and I'm losing you. Rest your hard hat against mine so I may feel your soothing breath against my face, your clemency against my foolish calamity. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I situated love in clay and ash and soot, in malignant minecarts. Love, drop your pickax. We're going home.

And in this dark harvest of season My life has completely lost reason, For which or against to decide. All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tide In sadness and in kindness In light and in darkness. In a boat made of hope I shall sail to tomorrow, In a winding hurricane Made of treachery and sorrow. There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear... Piercing, slashing though my head. Starting somewhere in heaven, Ending somewhere in hell. Fighting, burning, crying, crashing. Are the armies within. In my head they are all thrashing. On the heaven's and hell's whim. To be light or to be darkness. A perpetual array. It's not merely my choi

your thoughts are jackals, yet their twilight howls sound like cries in your head; you have been finding yourself & not- while trying not to sound so sad. so, Dear Heart, you can write. yet, you stopped wearing your words on your wrist & all that hair you chopped off this day a year ago, refuses to grow back. you turn, try to decode your encyclopedia of powerful spines, tearing at the pages you wrote them upon. angry, You were so angry. & now? nothing but an untamed, wild thing you leave collared & quiet in a cage.

I met my herd in the morning, and oh but I am old, On endless grassy prairies, that’s where my story’s told. The pounding of a million hooves that rose and fell like rain, On endless grassy prairies, before the hunters came. I met my herd in the morning, but then we heard a roar, A sound quite unlike any that we’d ever heard before. The reeking smell of powder and the flash of crimson flame, On endless grassy prairies, the day the hunters came. I met my herd in the morning, a broken, scattered band, Men shoot at us from horseback, our bones adorn the land. I met my herd in the morning and I’ll never meet them more, F