Fury Road



On the edge of the precipice
and stared into the desert
Shall all the eyes turn
or watch the world burn?


Inhaled the diesel fuel, the oil;
fire smoked beyond the sands
Shall all the eyes turn
to watch the world burn?


Primal scream shook the land,
madness snaked into the brain
Shall all the eyes turn
and watch the world burn?




© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart

Advertisements

#CoffinHop – Night of the Sidhe

Moon Clouds

 

Night of the Sidhe

 

The sun falls low, behind the hills

as the gloaming casts the land

in shadow and in fading light

and the wind blows over the water.

 

In the half-light they come…

 

They come to dance,

They come to play,

with we trusting mortal souls.

 

So lock tight the oaken door,

slide the iron bolt against the night.

Stoke the hearth fire high

and croon your children a lullaby.

 

In the half-light they come…

 

They come on moonbeams,

They come on the breeze,

Those wisps, those Fae, the Sidhe.

 

In the half-light they come…

 

So shiver, humans, as they pass,

secure your shutters fast.

Lest they take you with them.

 

In the half-light they have come…


They have come to laugh,

They have come to sing,

their beautiful voices, calling

 

For mortals everywhere…

 

To join their night,

to glory in their light,

to frolic with the fireflies,

and whisper to the trees.

While the wolf howls on the hill

and the wind tickles at the ear.

In the rivers the salmon speak,

and the stones scream from the earth.

Dance with the Sidhe, they cry,

dance my lovelies, and be free.

 

For in the half-light they come…

to reap from mortals everywhere

 

They sing of bliss,

and feasts and joy,

they dance in beauty,

in light serene.

They tell of paradise,

let you walk with gods;

in the night you live

an age of wonders.

 

In the half-light…

With your mortal soul…

 

They are splendour to behold

Captivating, mesmerizing,

tossing your dreams in the air,

offering harmony and joy.

 

A heaven in the half-light…

 

But as with all things,

a price must be paid.

To look upon immortal light

and dance with gods,

even for one eve,

such play will leave its mark.

A longing on the heart.

 

Of mortals everywhere…

 

With the dawn, a fortunate few

will depart with them

and leave behind this world of men.

The rest will remain upon the earth,

left here, lost in their wake

cursed to wander to their tune.

Friends will fall away,

love will wither.

As their song consumes.

 

In the half-light they come for you…

As they came for him…

 

Night after night,

they beckoned to his will.

Night after night,

he answered them.

He danced, he laughed,

in glades, on moonlight,

but never again with me,

only ever with them.

A pawn turning in their game.

 

In the half-light they took my love…

 

They toyed with him, used him,

until his bones lay white,

broken on the ground

under their feet.

 

Glinting in the half-light…

 

So heed me well,

when I tell you true

to lock tight your oaken door

and slide fast that iron bolt

against the night.

Ignore not my words

to stoke the hearth fire high

and croon your children a lullaby

to drown their song.

 

In the half-light they come…

 

They come on pale moonbeams,

They come on the howling wind,

those wisps, those Sidhe,

those dark of heart.

Hear my warning, I cry

 

To mortals everywhere,

In the half-light they will come…


 © All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart



Remember to enter our fabulous #CoffinHop giveaway HERE



Check out the rest of the Coffin Hoppers at:
CoffinHop

IMG_4273.JPG

The Penultimate Annual Horror Event
24th Oct – 31st Oct
60 Horror Authors/Artists/Poets
8 days of Fearsome Fun
8 days of Generous giveaways/sweepstakes/contests
Terrifying tales, Petrifying Poetry, Spine-tingling stories, Freakish Flash Fiction, Heart-Racing Horror…

Join the Hop and support your favourite Horror Authors/Artists/Poets

#CoffinHop – Goddess of War

Raven2

 

Goddess of War

 

Hear her ravens

Scream from silence

The coming of The Morrigan

 

Wing of black

Cry of death

The coming of The Morrigan

 

Horns to war

Hands to prayer

The coming of The Morrigan

 

Sky of rain

Rivers of blood

The coming of The Morrigan

 

Drops of tears

Over battlefields

The coming of The Morrigan



© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart



Remember to enter our fabulous #CoffinHop giveaway HERE



Check out the rest of the hoppers at:
CoffinHop

IMG_4273.JPG

The Penultimate Annual Horror Event
24th Oct – 31st Oct
60 Horror Authors/Artists/Poets
8 days of Fearsome Fun
8 days of Generous giveaways/sweepstakes/contests
Terrifying tales, Petrifying Poetry, Spine-tingling stories, Freakish Flash Fiction, Heart-Racing Horror…

Join the Hop and support your favourite Horror Authors/Artists/Poets

Wild Born

Copper Moon

Born on the untamed storm, black wind in the blood
Cold eyes of green, with a scream to shatter bone
Awake the dead, raven shadows call the flood

Red moon fears the surge, shrieking her tempest moan
A veiled gaze, darkened haze, in the endless howl
Bring the last, come the heir, to the thorny throne

Soar the bleak hurricane, rip the realm a scowl
Cascade forth the fury, nothing stands the wake
Fall to the oncoming rage, let life befoul

Wide rivers will burn and fair mountains will quake,
each in measured doom, blazing width and the depth
Child of the feral storm, all mercy forsake

Run to the edge, chased by the dark mist of breath
Run in vain, escape shall transpire in death

 

© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart

 

Closer Than Needed

 

 

Why do your words sound

strange?

Why do you stand there so

close?

What do you want from

me?

Why do you make me feel

afraid?

Why did you follow me

home?

Please, can you leave me

alone?

Wait, what are you doing

now?

 

Why are you …

 

You’re hurting me.

 

Let go!

Stop! No!

 

What did I do to deserve

this?

 

Why did you have to…

 



© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart

An Echo of Trumpets

Banner

Herald the thunder, ragged
Battle banners, set flying
Like the broken blade, jagged
Remnant in war met dying

Harbinger, bring the sorrow
with ease of grace so willing
to greet fate, on the morrow
the blade to blood, oh, spilling

Roar the tune before us, blaring
Ride for glory, whenever
the call to arms comes bearing
Be it our last endeavour




© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart