Empires Fall

 

There's a moat, that's dry, but full and deep 

Beneath crumbling ramparts, of a castles keep

A standard was raised, twas a white flag flying 

To mark the place, that wasn't death defying

Did a swarm, of flies, over corpses, crawl?

For they'll always feed, when empires fall

And this empire fell, when it failed the test

Yielding meekly, they inevitably lost the West

Some invited those, who were god's marauders

'Come to us' they said 'across our open borders'

And on their knees, hailed 'Our King is yours'

But were brutally mocked, like virgin whores

It was a natural re-ordering, to cede, or kill

In the invisible presence, of some higher will

And the domino's fell, long before the liars

As did cities and states and country shires

They purged the leaders, the pathetic weak

But it was, too little, too late, to avoid defeat

For empires fall, when the virtuous pander

To the ludicrous elite and their propaganda

Now, the winter's here, of the forever night

A moat's covered in snow, rot stained, white

A standard's raised, but it's a new flag flying 

To mark the place, where the old guard's lying

Our Flat Earth

 

Old gods of yore, a sky wizard, and the serfs of flerf

Unicorns, dragons, and the centaurs of our flat Earth 

Reside as one, but not united, as the doubters probe

Fabricating, their absurd reality, based upon a globe

Let them not fool us all, with ancient pseudoscience 

As they lead us, like sheep, let us show our defiance 

They'll drip feed, the insanity, of an alternative home

Even though, that the truth is, we exist under a dome

Albeit, we're as sane as Dionysus and talking snakes

Remember there're malicious agents, if god forsakes

They're fake, but of their doctrines, there is no dearth

Heretical globists, are forever coveting, our flat Earth 

Flesh Hovel Lane

 

They once rode out, for the fox hunting, Quorn

Over the hedges and fields, with passengers borne

But the old, the unfit, the weary and the lame

They'd all be butchered, down Flesh Hovel Lane 

Spent, they were knackered and given no quarter 

Led down the lane and sent to their slaughter 

It's a gruesome story and it's a terrible tale to tell 

For the hounds of the hunt, were always fed well

The butchery's long lost in the macabreness of yore

And the abattoir's gone, by Pillings Lock on the Soar

But it's still a dead end, still narrow, once rutted

It's Flesh Hovel Lane, where horses, were gutted

Autumn Crocus

 

When the heart is empty, the mind might focus

To find, a fiery fate, with the Autumn Crocus 

Although the thought is toxic, like an acid kiss

Nothing else will matter, if not being, is bliss

A clock stops ticking, when there's a broken cog

And reality's a phantom, when it's milling fog

For if the eyes cannot see, a course, to guide 

There's no way ahead, that's not death defied

If there's no aroma, when the flowers bloom

The only time that is left, is a time, too soon

For to feed on a harvest, that's poison laced

Is bitter, though sweet, in it's burning haste

When those, apparitions, were never there

The soul is lost, like an unanswered prayer 

And without reason, the mind, won't focus

As the body gorges, on the Autumn Crocus 

Poetry From The Darkside

 

Evil monsters lurk within and they lurk to reap

They're in my mind and they're mine to keep 

They'll hide from light, but when darkness grows 

They'll whisper incantations, in lines of prose

They're always there, but not well defined

But the spells they cast, are to blow my mind 

They're cloak and dagger, unreal, but stark

And so grotesque, they'll manifest the dark 

They feed off nightmares, they feed off fear

I can hear their vile verses, for they are here

Their poetry from the darkside, is meant for me

For in my direst reveries, there's a hanging tree

Dunkelflaute

 

Doom laden skies held, not one breath, of wind

Under the, achromatic mantle, torpidity binged

No turbine turned, there was no sunlight power

Kismet ordained, to drain, every megawatt hour

Eerie evenings, turned countrysides, into tundra

Lights burned bright, until the blackout's umbra

From the murk, came night and the cloying cold

Listlessly lingering, from the valley, to the wold

And dawn would seep, then creep, into each day

Unfolding itself into the simplicity, of bitter grey

Though time inexorably passed, beneath the veil

Enveloped, by a nothingness, the grid would fail 

Nihilism

Nothing, of terminable being, will ever make sense 

Illusions, of meaning, are just a delusional defence 

Humanity's dysfunctional and will lie, to keep sane

It needs order from chaos and something to blame 

Life is a mistake, for it's where the ghosts, are alive 

Infused with corporeality and an ambition to thrive 

Sooner, than later though, all will return, to the end

Merely traces of ex-entities, with nowhere to wend