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
Tag Archives: poet
The Stone Bridge
Wild Born
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
Deep Deliverance
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
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
Rain
Shall a host of angels shed their tears
as all the sins wash away in the rain?
Will their broken voices sob in weeping
for the cold, wet bodies on the ground?
The storm soaked earth flows sodden
around houses, cleansed and forgotten.
Once homes, they stand empty now,
while their tin roofs dance with raindrops.
Water tumbles, pouring from the grey sky,
tears unstoppable, the rains of heaven.
© 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
Final Night
Shades and Reflection
I looked into the heart
of the black night.
What did I find?
An image, distorted
in a gilded mirror.
An image desolate,
of me.
© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart