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

#CoffinHop – Goddess of War

 

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

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

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

War Drums

Winds blow north, with the coming

In your bones you feel your fear

Through the mists drift the drumming

Forlorn eyes shed one more tear

Voices mournful, chant the dirge

for sons they lost, gone away

Flung too far, hope can’t emerge

when Death cast your dream astray

© 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