Oh, beautiful, beautiful moon!

You melt in the night, weeping into

Waters so still they might already be


Oh, loveliness epitomised,

you remind me of another night owl

I knew once. A beautiful thing who vanished

With rising of the sun.

I think it burnt. I never thought to ask.

But we would dance for hours under your

blessed beams. Dance with the songs of

sleeping birds and angel’s harps miles

above our heads.

Oh, it was beautiful, moon. The way we smiled,

the way we forgot our cares. Your tender embrace held us

captive, and we’d while away the hours as if we


Is that a waterfall?

Or, moon, are your beams melting towards the ground, slipping and sliding in a forceful waltz?

I cannot tell.

It shines with great passion, understanding, grace.


Oh, dear, sweet moon, grant me forgiveness!

Let me throw myself at your


and drown myself in your image


so that i may forget


that love i have


moon? please don’t tell me you have

set so soon

Hell’s Fury

the sky is black

dark, dark as night

(is it even night?)

heavy storm clouds crack

hell’s fury pours out

molten fire, fluid lava

mixed in a light beam

red and gold on black

like the school colours of a gothic academy

it’s the sun’s last-ditch attempt

fighting, failing as it struggles

how pathetic


you cannot defeat the night, sun

you fool

and then


the heavens fight back!

a terrible thing.

red and silver mix — who will win?

not me


i am trapped between

two gods

but i shall worship neither

for when they pass, their fading colours will

herald in the dark, dark night

and then

i will be trapped in oblivion


Eternal Night

storm clouds darken the sky

blot out the moon

yet the ground is dry

thunder rumbles

but no lightning strikes

there’s no light at all

in this dark, dark night

i can’t see

all dark, no light

nightmarish world

i am one with the night

no sign of hope

no way to get out

i throw back my head

and i scream and shout

but no one hears me

even God is blind

to the life i lead

this world in my mind

one day the clouds

might move on, and then

the stars will shine through

like a long-lost friend

my mouth waters as

i imagine that time

but it won’t happen


not to me

i am sentenced to darkness

bound in this world

enveloped in hatred

in sins so absurd



but when i close my eyes

the dark disappears

i can see moon and stars

that blur through my tears

i know they’re not real

they’re not meant for me

i’m a monster, i’m broken

locked in the night

and i’ll never see

blood, but speak on

this is madness

the things i’ve seen

no one should have to

and then you stand up there

on the soapbox

and you, you speak to me about





…i’ve seen things you’ve never dreamt of

seen things you’ve never heard of

i don’t tell you how to live your life

…so why do you try to run mine?

haven’t you done enough damage here?

the blood

i still feel it

running through my hands

still warm, still fresh

through her hair, on her skin

have you ever held the dying

in your heart?



i didn’t think so.

so, please, preach your message. your hate. your love.

i won’t hear it.

i’ll see things you could never imagine




oh, yes, the screams

because it’s unpleasant to

oh, i won’t burden you with that

speak on

i’m listening

really, i am


i lost her at midnight

the bewitching hour

to this madness

i don’t know

i don’t know when she died

the body in my hands

wasn’t hers

she wasn’t like this

in life

you speak, but you forget

the dead

the ones who died because you speak

inspired to some other glory

in some other place

i lost her

so that you could speak

so by all means


run your tongue

it’s not as if there’s anything in my heart left for you to break

real writer

and she asks me, ‘do you write?’

well, yes, ma’am, actually i do. i write a lot. i love it.

what do you write, she says.

lots of things, i say. poetry, short stories, fantasy, sci-fi, mystery, horror, tragedy…

oh, she says. so you’re not a real writer.


you’re not a real writer. you don’t have books published and stuff.

i’ve written six books…

but they’re not published, right? i can’t go to Chapters and buy one.

well, no, but i’m hoping one day…

oh, of course, sweetie. sure thing.

she pinches my cheek.

we all have dreams, don’t we? all you kids are so cute when you’re young!


i watch her walk away.

but i am a real writer! i write from my heart. i write truths. and truths in fiction. do you know how hard that is?

and i write poetry! with metre! and rhyme! bet you can’t do that, with metre and rhyme.

i was born in the wrong century, that’s all! no one likes it if you write beautiful things. truthful things. soulful things.

…i write from the soul.

but they don’t want it. it doesn’t sell.

but i still write.

i write because i have to write.

must write! must write!

it’s like a mantra. some sort of drug.

i can’t stay away!

isn’t that a real writer? what else do you want from me? blood? tears?

…i already cry when i write…

i cry because i write.



‘real writer’


Insanity’s Pleasure

The metal glistens on my neck

As it falls onto my chest

It cuts my skin, causing me pain

Is it a necklace, or is it a chain?

I can’t speak, so you won’t know

The trials I’ve had to undergo

I’ve been tortured to the edge

Of insanity’s pleasure, for a crime alleged

The metal links grow and grow

Leaching the truths I used to know

They clamp on my wrists, holding me tight

Keeping me bound to this darkness, this night

My sins number few, but they run deep

Haunting my mind like a song on repeat

Here, in the darkness, the shadows moan

My body shivers, and shakes my bones

My crimes are unspoken, yet darkness descends

Upon this maddening silence to which I am condemned

There is no light, yet the heavy chains glow

Wet like a sunbeam melting the snow

Oh! Those are tears! I think I am crying

No, you can’t help me. Leave me — I’m dying

I’m a criminal, a convict, my life is forfeit

I’ve been sentenced to madness, eternal torment

I am a monster — see? My life is done.

No breaths left to hold, they’ve already won

You might pity me; you don’t know how I’ve lived

The sickening sins no one ever forgives

But now that that’s over, and now that I’m dying

My walls have been broken, and, now, I am crying

And maybe, one day, you’ll learn to forgive

A monster forgotten, who no longer lives

Until then,  I’ll stand under my sins and my chains

Forever in darkness, now that I’ve gone insane


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