A Way With The Fae

Akin to the sprites
From the land of my birth
She danced, then posed, then laughed
Then curling her toes
Deep in to the sand
She reached out with soul
And whispered her craft

Come with me
To the edge of the desert
In search of wisdom and light
We shall taste infinity
And a thousand other delights

And so I followed her every step
To a place where time was no more
A tangible dream
A delectable scene
The incarnation of some ancient lore

In to her arms
I was bound
As heart and soul intertwined
And it was here
That I found my end
As I faded in to the divine

Written In Stone

I watched the blood of the mother of mother spray a crimson mist upon a white handkerchief. It was a sign that she was soon to pass and time brought this sign to conclusion and left me as a child with a trinket carved out of jade. This trinket took the form of an elephant for an elephant never forgets.

To The Bone

The Divine Sleeper

Born with the bombs
That blew apart
Our civilized unions
And broke our fragile hearts

These streets run red
In all of the confusion
Just more collateral
A blood to concrete perfusion

For the divine
Sleeper’s dream
It is but a warning
A silent war of thoughts
A tempestuous brain storming

Decisions clouded over
This dire reign of greed
Tapping failing veins
To gloat rather than feed

A price you never paid
A debt that you created
Always paid in full
By those that you sedated

With chemical and cult
You pierced
And then you pried
Until their cerebral cortex
Was washed
Then hung out to dry

For the divine
Sleeper’s dream
No need to pay them heed
For you will never suffer
For you will never bleed

Zhi Jing W.I.P.

We build our machines with the hope that they will excel where we have failed.

Modus Operandi

Bound by an unspoken code and thrown in to a life of deception. The Devil put their heart in to sure hands for safe keeping. There was a long journey ahead with many paths written in blood. The undoing of what had been done and the liberation of future days. Retribution would bring redemption but first the bloodline had to be secured.

Steps

A different kind of music for a new kind of magic.
An air of mystery wrapped in such familiarity.
A feeling woven in to the unknown.
A story written by lucid dreams becoming real over time.
It is these mental projections that keep you ahead of the curve.

Invocation – WIP

Some more animation in the works.

Leap Of Faith

Upon this altar
I lay at peace
Warm and soft
I dream
I fall
A hand strokes my brow
Calling me back
To arms

My eyes pop
It’s okay
She says
Her hand on my heart
Her voice in my head
I can rest
I can dream
I can fall

Without fear
I dive deep
For she is my anchor
And I am her keep
I can drift
Without loss
Brave
The darkest seas

The void
Reaches out
Reaches in
Cleansing the soul
Absolving the sins
I know
My war
Has come to an end

The Second Ritual

Love. It sells songs, seeps in to nearly every movie and book but is a reality that most will never truly experience in their lifetimes. That is why it is such a popular notion. The human always wants to feel special, wanted, empowered and to possess what others do not. Love is a nice term to use to sugar coat our egotistical motivations and parade around while on a high pretending to care. It is a term that if defined by the populous can be replicated with drugs. Just drop some acid and hug a stranger. That’s the love of songs, movies, fiction and the one we will all experience at one point of another in our lifetimes.
It’s a love that manipulates and hurts and is about as good for you as manic depression. All highs and lows until you hit a wall and have to pick yourself up feeling bitter and damaged but don’t lose hope. True love is out there. It is an evasive entity that may come and find you when you least expect it. It may not, as I mentioned earlier, it is a rarity. Out of the thousands of people I have crossed paths with I have enough fingers to count the ones who were touched by true love. A beautiful sight that communicates without action or word. A silent complicity united by unseen forces that holds you in rapture when witnessed.

The Second Ritual is about love. From destructive gods to redeeming angels. Killers, saints and a search for self in a world that sings the song and follows the book yet knows nothing about love.
It is based upon a personal experience that nearly put me on time out over a decade ago mixed in with characters I’ve been writing about ever since. Enjoy the trip and I’ll see you on the other side.