Showing posts from October, 2017

The Reformation's 500 Anniversary

Happy Reformation day! To honor this special holiday I have decide to not write anything dark and dreary this week. I have decided to introduce something new to my blog. Today's post is going to feature all my favorite quotes by Martin Luther. I am a newbie with quote posts so bare with me on this one.

The road I followed

 This is not a poem although maybe one day it will be. I was walking up my road the other day and this thought came to my mind. It was dark and the road I live on is curvy with a cliff on one side and a steep bank on the other making it darker then it actually is. Making you wonder what is on the bank or at the bottom of the cliff. When I got home I put together this little but of inspiration.  Narrow the road I did travel. Old and gray it 'twas. Full of twists and turns And weird old trees. Up it took me, deep into A forest I'd never explored. I followed it. knowing not what to expect. It was quiet and had an eerie feel. The trees all seemed green. The farther I went the darker and gloomy Everything became. I began to jump At any little sound. A rustle, crack, snap, or tap Made me look around. Yet still I followed it Despite all my fear. The trees now all seemed dead And were gray shadows. My gut told me to stop But I did not take heed. Still I wa

The song she sung

She Sat there, tied to a chair; Damaged and confused.  To calm the dark fear of death, She there intuned. "Away with me forever, never too be seen. A whisper and a shadow forever I will be.  No one to say, "I love you." Or,"Are you okay?" No one to say, "hold on now, we'll make it through the day." Only a dark shadow, that crawls across the room. Only a whisper that says, "It will all be over soon." Only dark cold depths; that never pass me by.  Only terrible ice winds; that beat against the sky.  Only me tide up; tight, to die and endless death.  So, this song I will sing until my last dying breath." The song she sang it 'bout thrice; On the fourth she tried,  But her heart ceased to beat.  Then she there did die.  They found her in the morning  Underneath the sky.  Iced over by all the cold, All to horrify.  Nobody knew who she was. Or why she was there.  They only k

Faun of depths

In the deadest parts of night,  When all should be a sleep, Fear; it wanders left and right; As a faun from the deep.  He's filled with evil magic; Which call to all that sleep:  "The children in the attic  No longer do they creep." The children who never sleep, Toss and turn as they plea While he pulls them in, knee deep,  To the dark depths beneath.  A nightmare to all who hear The call of his own life:  "Sleepless children disappear, Live forever in strife."  By Evelyn Creon This poem was inspired by a dream I had. 

The caw of the Jay

The blue jay's caw is sinful; Very simular to the crow. It tells of somethings brutal; That could take place in many rows. In rushing blast, come the wind. Affirming the jay's caw was right. The grayness steps foot within; Bringing with, the black of night. In the darkness none discerns; What lays no more than out of sight. Such reasons are to concern The utmost, blackest parts of night. Where creatures lurk, ever near. To catch a brief glimpse of their dupe. Driving their prey into fear, Before making them into human soup. The blue jay's call is heinous; Very simular to the crow. That's why we should take notice So not to take a fatal blow. By Evelyn Creon I have began to have a thing for a little darker poems and stories. This poem was inspired by the screech of a blue Jay and the day coming to an end.