Golden Iron (day 2148)

Whisper me once silence more
I have a golden iron
Wrack my brain into sweet depths
Let thee mine, forever.
Then why doth evening break again
With no leopards at my back?
I’ve given over each succulent
A tender touch shall remain
For my heart leaps with each raindrop
A flood, or desert storm.

Storm (day 1897)

Picture if you will
And together in a spell
From the start it was a myth
And you cried as if unearth
My tonic was the birth
To last unlike death
Gathering wind
Gathering storm
Gathering the eyes
Of ten thousand hungry men
Entrapped, entranced
In a stately march
Will I live alone?
Will I seek a heart?
And to the end
I collapse once again
Longer then our wind
Thicker then our storm
And then all at once
Dropped, it was to end.

To Be Ready in thy Soul (day 1725)

I wish I could reach out to you
Hold out my warmth in arms
I’d be your blanket wrapped around
To keep thy soul in tight

I wish I had the strength to grow
As the tree grows up and down
I’d have protection under me
To shade thee from heaven’s rain

I wish I was wind beneath
Your sail so taught and ready
My breeze would cool on warmer days
And speed thee through thy storm

I wish I had a bent back
Worn from thy service to thee
I’d be rags to keep thy feet
From ever touching hard ground

Storm is on the Ni’ (day 1696)

Weathered by the storm one night
I lay awake in bed,
Trusty steed loose outside
To fare for his warmth, amidst.
I’ve got a heart of gold and
I left my shoes tidy by the door.
Stayed up all night watching
Stars shoot through the sky,
And you told me twice that I
Had led you down the right road.
Now you come home and
Lay awake in bed,
Lay beside me when
Storm is on the ni’.

Down Below (day 1588)

Can you hear everything I said?
Is the light here turned down too low?
I am coming out of my oblivion
And I don’t think it’s alright
To mend those sidebars and widgets
Until the storm has passed
And we’ve long cleared the roar
Coming from the spear-tipped legion
Down below.

20151003 - Ned Tobin

Necromance (day 1523)

How can hallmark decay such strength
That whips about this storm?
A glass amongst dewy grass
Strays memories into this ‘bow.
I have called out to where I’m deeply lost,
I have called to whom I’m sold,
I have called upon a Prince
That left me floating in a sea,
Upon a piece of pixie dust
That was soaked into a cube.
Laying ‘mongst the willows in
A lost state of reverence,
A charmer came and held my snake
And fed me necromance.