TODAY IS FOR LOVE

A ruby dart sails, it sears my palm

I feel the surge of glory and bliss.

Larks waltz with doves to kiss my brow

the mystic gate parts; all holy seals melt

so halos may rise and paths shine true.

Hark a horn blasts! Hail riders in white!

O come dear prize! Call magic to blaze

for arid, grey souls whose hopes are dross.

THE MARCH OF THE ELECT

A pink veil drifts; the fir trees bow

as pearl globes wink and blue capes trail.

Stars bead sun hair; buds flow from lips

rapt faces spark gems; hands clasp to pray

for cities of ice where acid rots men.

Lead spikes stab faith; hate lobs her boils

rocks groan in pangs; the gifted souls writhe

their mute tears gush and salve earth's woes.

THE DARK LORD STALKS

The gold mist sings; her comely gaze thrills

A host of shades crafts runes and spells.

Gales part her drapes; whines blast the hush

ash hoods fall dead; fangs glint to snarl.

Void eyes shoot rays; my soul sinks wan

a hiss rips flesh; I whirl past stars.

My body leaks slime; the dark realm looms

I hear drums pound to greet new wraiths.

THE DAY OF GRACE

O high Lord wing with oil to bless

the once lost heir who gored red eyes

of trolls and ghouls born from fire's pit

to rend his staff that flared at sea

so the fair race might fear no blood.

O haste white gift! Bring forth your crown

ablaze in rich rose to hail the peace.

Adorn his sweet head with glory and lauds

and spray holy scent upon the glad aisle.

O chaste maid glide! Come pleat your love

in his moist heart long torn by war.

THE BLACK ROSE

A fell bird spits; my gold rose wails

Ice rots her glow and rays of love

Her body is puce; tar spews from boils

it stabs blest eyes that dim to die.

A foul song whines; the foe gnaws flesh

to gild his nest with gems of rout.

His iron mob pulps the air stung red

Barbs rage in trees and kill like asps

“O woe fair buds; your reign is ash!”

NIGHT MAGIC (SEQUEL TO KING SIRA)

A rose girl sighs and strews her pods

stars fire old gems to blast the smog.

By glint of moon a tree plays pipes

as mares fan wings and roe deer clap.

The dark bile wanes; a red soul fits

sun robes the maid; it spins gold joy.

Her eyes brim love to gift man songs

a pink horn blows; she veils her face

to gaze on hope; the King's blest heir.

KING SIRA

A king falls gored by darts of fire

The skies rain soot; a foul gas coils.

It rots pure buds; grey lips ooze tar

and split rare trees that waltz in joy.

Man howls for life but sinks to mist

Gales hurl the ash of once high lords.

O woe gilt souls who drift here blind

The red ghoul stalks to slime his prey.