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Monday, 27 February 2012

THE SIGHT PASSING


twisted tree
of stunted growth
perchance your roots
did delve too far
what strange waters
did they reach
in search of knowledge
dark and deep ?

:::::::::::::::::::::


what sight mine
or sense did keep
such cloven tongue
and madness deep ?

::::::::::::::::

for the fool that claims
to envy me
lives , and breathes
mistakenly

:::::::::::

and of my word
you seek to profit
knowing neither truth , nor lie
and so , what of it ?

May your Gods
Whoever they may be
Walk beside you always 


All Poetry © D W Storer 2011/2012/2013/2014
All Artwork © S Storer 2011/2012/2013/2014

Thursday, 16 February 2012

FROM " THE RECUSANT WHO NEVER RECANTED"


Greetings to all, 
new friends and old
******
An extract from 'The Recusant Who Never Recanted' 



The Tower

All above is darkness
No star here ever seen 
No path but that which leads below
Onwards , downwards
Endless stair
Choked by those who wait
Silent , and immobile 

       The Child has found himself atop a tower . 'Tis cold enough for frost to have formed on its surfaces , and the air has a leaden quality to it that is strangely familiar . Above , the sky is devoid of even the merest hint of a star and the darkness seems infectious . Nothing can be seen , no matter where he turns his head , excepting within his immediate vicinity for the very stones of which the tower be constructed from exude a faint grey light which is reminiscent of a fog . 
      Peering out over the edge of the tower offers no clues as to his location , for though it can be seen that his perch be of some considerable height no more than that can be surmised under such conditions . The boy , however , loses interest in the question of where he is and replaces it with the newer , more pressing , one of how will he depart ?  And herein begins his nightmare , if that indeed be what it is , for he has noticed a square hole in the floor down from which stairs descend . 'Tis not this discovery that ails him so , rather 'tis the sight of what awaits him there .

My world
'Tis best viewed from afar 
Beyond its shadowed vales
If light dared from but a single star
'Twould reveal our Souls
So pale
****


May your Gods , whoever they may be ,
Walk beside you always

D W Storer