#CoffinHop – Sandstorm

Desert

 

Sandstorm

 

Wasteland calling, for the reckless, rash fool

From sand rises death, with thin bones bare, bleached white

Tempest screaming, one name spoken- the ghoul

To chill the soul, madness, shiver in fright

Storm rider, reaper; escape won’t come, but run

Come the next day, the body left for the sun

So fear the sand, its fall, don’t join those few,

those lost secrets, buried, or you will rue

the hour terror followed, when dread arose

Never one left, no soul, to tell of true

Turn the season, and the desert wind blows

 

Blind eye twisted, and a city stands, to rule

on the warm sand, spires so tall, so bright

Pride and hubris built the desert jewel

within the path, the grasp, of the hawk’s flight

And nothing’s safe, no life; it has begun

Hear the windstorm shrieking, conceit undone

Darkness descends, wailing a shadow hue,

no rain to wash the blood, just morning dew

Empty, haunted, their home- the fate they chose

They fed the beast crimson and evil grew

Turn the season, and the desert wind blows

 

Ruins mark the time, in stone, a past too cruel

The sand erased the pain, but sees the blight

of crushed relics, splendour lost, in the duel

of opposed wills, the war of the long night

It stands alone, exile, the path most shun

A city torn, shattered, the dark tale spun

The sand is calm, again, a tranquil view

Yet underneath, they lurk, they will pursue

Never absent, they wait, they only doze

The desert bids, enter, and start anew

Turn the season, and the desert wind blows

 

Refugees flee conflict, a people who’ll

face the desert, scurry to a worse plight

unknown to them; prey in the zephyr cool

as it rouses, as they watch all in sight

and feast that day on flesh, while sparing none

The sand ran red, harsh rivers to outrun

Blame given not to ghouls, but men who slew

Such is warfare, some said, under sky, blue

It is sad luck, to be bones for the crows

And went away, naive, without a clue

Turn the season, and the desert wind blows

 

So remember, now with hunger they drool

Don’t tempt your life, not once, they’ll take a bite

They hide, they hunt, for you, meat to fuel

their appetite- that need, they take delight

in the killing, the death; it is their fun

In their desert, their sand, you will be done

No hope, escape, just skin and entrail spew

Others ventured, and died; they thought they knew

Stay far from sand, or else the edge will close

Discount, disdain, you’ll see, you’ll get your due

Turn the season, and the desert wind blows

 

In wind, in sand, we bide, wait the years through

Come closer now, that’s it- more limbs to chew

Tear off the flesh from bones, nibble on toes

Straggler, nomad, the same, you are all stew

Turn the season, and the desert wind blows





© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart



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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

 

Dimensional Thoughts

Daylight into dark
Daylight waning
Waning sky
Waning moon
Moon luminosity
Moon insanity
Insanity is relative
Insanity is reality
Reality is seeing
Reality is not convenient
Convenient lies
Convenient shadows
Shadows hide
Shadows swallow
Swallow truth
Swallow worlds
Worlds lurking
Worlds buried
Buried deep
Buried bleak
Bleak fortitude
Bleak hope
Hope fallen
Hope lost
Lost external
Lost returning
Returning restitution
Returning revolution
Revolution circle
Revolution cracks
Cracks the whip
Cracks the veil
Veil shreds
Veil reveals
Reveals nothing
Reveals secrets
Secrets strange
Secrets whisper
Whisper in your ear
Whisper babble
Babble onward
Babble screams
Screams a cacophony
Screams are dying
Dying humanity
Dying universe
Universe just beyond
Universe unfolds another
Another
Beyond

 

© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart

 

Barren Wilderness

FTF Tree

Through the undressed trees, the wind howls
a wild shriek of fury spent, but never quashed
A thin voice wavers, yet still it’s heard…
There’s nothing to be done, for I am lost

A wild shriek of fury spent, but never quashed
despite the vanquished, despite the insurgence
of boldness, the resolve towards supremacy

A thin voice wavers, yet still it’s heard
Above the roar that stains the dark lit sky
A noise in vain, the resonance of defiance

There’s nothing to be done, for I am lost
my will long spent amid the damage
my withered bones to lay forgotten


© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart

Hearts

Her eyes drank in the sight of her favourite hue, that vivid primary that burst with energy, that crackled with verve and being, the essence of kisses, roses, luscious fruit dripping juice. It was her joy, her bliss, this primal red.

Red, Crimson, Scarlet
The colour of life and love
Ruby wine churning

She inhaled the scent of it, the vision of it, and the satin touch of it. She smiled, wanting more, staring as the beautiful red dripped off her hand as droplets of blood. She giggled and took another bite of the freshly plucked heart.

Raw claret falling
As stains and impulsive death
Blood sipped, ingested

© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart

Cimmerian

In the stygian waters you descend
drowning, dying with every surge
far underneath, fighting to emerge
In the stygian waters you descend

Drowning, dying with every surge
of breath, lost to expanding tide
your nebulous, inky fate implied
drowning, dying with every surge

Of breath, lost to expanding tide
trapped with your voiceless screams
riding the swell of broken streams
of breath, lost to expanding tide

Trapped with your voiceless screams
Into the stygian waters you descend
Shut your eyes, persisting to pretend
Trapped with your voiceless screams

Into the stygian waters you descend
drowning, dying with every surge
far underneath, fighting to emerge
Into the stygian waters you descend

© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart