By Shaun Woyak
Afloat on boundless ocean of hate, Disgust
tidal waves, dark currents of fear.
I shake my fist, I shall not crumble nor quail,
at that which is or shall draw near
And behold! Look there out upon the horizon.
The storm draws nigh, oh unavoidable fate.
Roiling, tumbling, sweet symphony of anguish
Never to be quelled, never shall it abate.
And there the beast does rise from boiling froth,
coiling, boundless, unheeding and ever hateful.
Yet the ship, it may rise and fall in the horrors' tremors,
but too solid is the build, it shall float, and I am grateful.
Though waters' blessed insanity does call my name,
to blanket my thoughts in its sweet embrace.
Oh coward, I shall not be, and though escape does beckon,
honor allows a view only of quiet distaste.
So onward once and once again, on to forever and the storm.
Avoiding that which I sought out in my joy.
Forward into the maw of the demon mind that rules,
mine to control as I wish or for me to destroy.
In the end the serpent shall have its final feast.
Hateful rhapsody, destructive love, pains my soul.
Courage, strength, only so long can stand the rock,
but once that fails the mind's eye becomes blackest hole.
Shadow of a Woman
Woman of mystery
Depth of my soul
She knows my heart
Fragile rainbows in the sun
Fleeing to the shadows
Wet, hot tears
Run down her face
No one knows why
She hides behind
On her red lips Her eyes are truth
My mysterious friend
Wrapped in soft gray
A gem in the Earth
The many facets
Of her surface shine
See the beauty within
Into the lives
Her eyes sparkle
In the sun
Within her heart
Her eyes are truth
Melt into Morning
Bold, bright, vivid,
Red orange streaks of paint
Melt into a bottomless lavender sea.
Across my mind,
The clouds fade quietly
To whispering gray.
Night breathes gently,
Cool, dark, and mysterious,
Yet comforting and familiar.
Ensconce yourself in the night,
Bury your soul deep within hers.
Bits of stars will light the way
To a morning brighter still.
Softly dripping, gems fall off your fingers,
Falling into me.
Shatter my surface and my depth
Into a million pieces.
Waves collide and crash over each other,
I don't know where to go.
I want to make you whole again,
Never let you fall apart.
Your beautiful smile in a broken mirror,
Let me make your surface smooth. But anything I do disturbs it more.
The water must calm itself.
Sihle Senkeh Rzhinni
Three seasons passed
In the Year of Our Lord
And life hung like a puppet
From the Devil's Cord
Odoacer was Emperor
In the Year of Our Lord
As the great Empire crumbled
Cities met the Gothic sword
The Church grew powerful
In the Year of Our Lord
A child fled his home
To be a gypsy's ward
There comes a Viking ship!
The Gods forbid I be aboard
Where hypocrites cry, "Help!"
In the name of the Lord
"Whiplash!" Rasps her long hair, washed by the rain and combed the wind
Running, running, running through the treetops
Displaying superb skill
"Lelelelelele!" cries the warrior woman, bounding off a cedar branch
Her sisters follow suit with their spears and bows
And the trespasser is faced with the fourth element
Blue fire, red fire, green fire, Amazon fire
From the clan of Shamaness, clan of Bloodshed, and clan of the Nurturers
All for the sake of the Oracle, the clan they shall join when they die
For the glory of womanhood they brandish their blades and open their souls
Flee, dear fellow, be wise and flee Flee the rising wall of fire, whose each flame
Is shaped like an hour glass
And thirsts for your blood
From 13 to 17
Music and chatter are soundless now
Ideas and excitement have deserted the brain
Mourning in the back of the head grows loud
And will, hopefully, drown out the screaming pain
Laughter is a memory of a previous life
Joy is the counterpart of pure misery
Peace, once sought, is forever scorned
Peace, once believed, is now mere theory
The myth of happiness protests
As Zeus and Hera and their brethren
Did when kicked off center stage
Replaced by oblivion, the newest trend
Whose greenness is now subdued
In whom sweet moisture did once fill
But whose sweet moisture autumn spilled
Falling leaf--crisp and free
Oh, to be dead as thee!
For like you, whom the tree hath shed
I mourn the childhood I have bled
And permit the years to line my skin
When shall my afterlife begin?
Will Osiris take me to his Beautiful West
That Anubis may judge my soul to rest?
Illness has killed all my tomorrows
Agony has displaced my sorrow
Mindless, rotting vegetable am I
Waiting to rise from where I lie
Indeed there are things worse than death--
For years I have breathed my last breath!
Kiss me, Isis, kiss only me
I, the young, confide in thee
Fledgling, neophyte, neonate-
I am your newest initiate
You know of love, so why is it so
That I must serve your temple alone?
Before I came here, I knew love too
Now High Priestess says I must love only you
So sadly, so quietly
I surrendered to my piety
I abandoned what was good and true
To serve the gods, to serve you!
To deter thy wrath and alter my fate
And now ignore longings I cannot sate...
Hold me, Isis, and whisper to me
That you will not tell what I have told thee