Burning Autumn Leaves

 

They were sent to find her

Sent to just re-mind her

To douse the lies that blind her...

But she was burning autumn leafs

They were sent to realign her

Not sent to undermine her

Or attempt to redesign her...

Burning, Autumn leaves

🌿 🔥 🍀 

Shapeshifter

 

Surreptitious, metamorph, will unfold the dark

Hidden, as a shade, but it's unmistakably stark

A chameleonic manipulator and reality twister 

Preying on sanity, is the shadowy shapeshifter 

Elusive and unseen, if it's abroad, then it's near

Somewhere close by, waiting to feed on a fear

Harbouring depravity, the camouflaged stalker 

Is a malevolent, monstrosity, and a skin-walker 

Flesh and soul will crawl, when the hackles rise 

The sure sign, of its presence, for those unwise 

Enshrouded, it may feign to be a familiar figure 

Reanimated tho' and it will be insanity's trigger 

Vampire-Witch

 

Venomous harridan, cast her spell of deception 

Adored by Satan and blessed without reflection

Maybe her horror was clear, not a subtle sleight 

Perhaps, I should have known, with her first bite

I felt my blood drain, as she guzzled and gorged

Realising my mistake, for in Hell she was forged

Each drop of her sweat, was like acid in my soul

With the caress of her breaths, burning like coal

I howled in my head, but her sorcery was strong

Taking me to the place, of a triple headed prong

Cackling for she was sated, I was spent, O wirra!

Her conjuration, of desire, an unreflecting mirror 

Grave Diggers

 

Ghosts range freely as the hour looms

Revenants though are buried in tombs

A witch casts a spell, to raise the dead

Verbalising incantations, from A to zed

Even wizened old ravens in languor toil

Disturbed by the sight of animated soil

Inch by inch they rise, from underneath 

Grave diggers fleeing the reaper's grief

Godless creatures, from a satanic void

Eviscerate minds, till they're destroyed 

Raised from tombs, the horror's found

Somewhere shallow, in a burial ground

Dead Ahead

 

In the subliminal realm, of the darkest lucid dream

There's a way to escape, lit by a lighthouse beam

A beguiling beacon luring to an alternative land

From ocean, to shore, as was always planned 

An oneironaut is in control, destiny's master

A conjurer, a seer, and a paradisian pastor

For this is the way, of the ultimate cause

To hide away, from mortality's, claws

But a woven dream is an empty sail

And Athanasia is the unholy grail

For like moths to fire, it is said 

The only way is dead ahead 

Dead Water (DW3)

Dream weavers of infinite seas, avail together 

Existing in oneironautics, to elude, life's tether 

Alas in reality, white horses yield to the waves 

Delusions of athanasia, lying in watery graves

White squalls corrupt, the reveries, of a flotilla 

As their dreams become nightmares, of Scylla 

The roiling maelstrom, will turn hope, into fate

Ebbing, from the forever, only fables, navigate

Rest in peace, when sleep's too deep, to wend

Dream weavers 'believe' but cannot transcend 

With wind in the sail, they may give no quarter 

3 bells, though, may claim a toll in dead water 

Dream Weaver 2

 

Death aligns, betwixt the dusk and dawn

Reaping souls, on the dead winds, borne

Enticed by sirens, a dream weaver wends

A course, for flight, where life transcends 

Marooned, in a reality, is mortality's realm

Within oneironautality, is a dream to helm

Eventide may await, but the ocean's deep

As unfathomable depths, ascend, in sleep

Voyage to the void, avoid the reaper's land

Expel the torment, sleep paralysis planned

Run into a wake, of another dream weaver 

2 vessels, assailing, thalassophobia's fever