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Snow QueenShall I find thee all in ice ensnared,the tree boughs stripped, the blossoms bared,trapped in a wet and wintry grave -the blight of snow and hoarfrost shared?They brought you here, their souls enslaved.The altar where your minions prayed -a brilliant diadem of ice,the offering that your cold heart craved.They linger here whilst you enticetheir frozen limbs as sacrifice.Their wizened hands by you declaredthe chosen few who paid your price
Collected TrioletsThere are some stories I cant tell.You are too old for fairytales.You are too old for carousels.There are some stories I cant tell.You father said he wished you well.He said the card is in the mail.There are some stories I cant tell.You are too old for fairytales.Its hard pretending not to care.Your smile is worn on mannequins.Im sure I saw one wear your hair.Its hard pretending not to careThat you are standing, silent, thereAnd separation is glass thin.Its hard pretending not to care.You smile is worn on mannequins.You didnt hear me whenI said I loved you. OnceI mentioned it again.You didnt hear me. WhenYou laughed I knew right thenI had to change my stance.You didnt hear me whenI said, I loved you once.The bees attack an orchid bloom,The hornets laugh and then they glowerAnd then they start mixing bee tombs.The bees attack an orchid bloomBut merely buzz their foolish doom,The hive descends on pur
The Defense of Gawain (Fragment 1)He brushed his wavy hair from his pale faceJust like his horse was shaking off the fliesWhile following behind. Their limping paceWas slow, although the city rang with criesSurprised from friends who thought that he was dead--But still his head slumped down, and still his eyesAnd clammy cheeks were flushed with streaking red,Though they were running, dashing to his side.And then his young brother, half-laughing, said,"Oh god, I thought--you know we thought you died?That awful task--you left, you rode away--And then did not come back. Oh, how I cried!I thought you died. On last year's new-year's dayA year since you had left, they all agreedYou must have failed your quest, but I said nay--I knew my brother Gawain would succeedAlthough it seemed to all impossible.But you did not come back, and I concedeI thought you died." And then his voice sunk lowFrom where it had been shouting in delight,And then he said: "But brother, may I know--Your hair is snarled, unkempt--yo
To Save A PrincessTo Save A Princess:In most of the stories, whether old or newIt is usually the knight that saves the maidenBut reality is never as sweet as thatAnd often the truth gets slightly misshapenBut this is a story about the truth;A tale of Pirates who aided the KingThough most would credit his honoured knightsWe know they didn't do a thing...Instead what happened is an epic storyFor it began on a night when the moon was fullThe Pirates slipped from their hallowed shipLike wolves cloaked in woolThey hid amongst the jagged rocksAnd called like birds to communicateThe soldiers thought they were hearing thingsUntil they began to hallunicate...Visions of frightening ghosts and shadesCovered their eyes and sent them screamingThey clawed at their faces and toppled to the ground;They woke the camp with their horrid keeningThe ground was alive with running footstepsYet soldiers began to fall like snowIn panic their ears could not hear the soundOf the rifle
PianistHis fingertips splashed through the ivory keysWith ripples that scattered in rowsWhile windows bloomed petals of watery pinksEach kissing his cheeks with a glowReleasing his notes like a bird caged in springHe untangled the keys from their dinMaking sense of a sequence not meant to be seenHe etches them deep in his skin.He performs for the windows and plays for the hallsThe curtains will sway in his songThe picture frames quiver and jump from the wallsBeneath the great rush of his palms.So I open my window, before I lay restJust to capture a trace of his spawnIt's been years since I've heard it, but still I awaitfor the chime of the Pianist's song.
Losswhatshe askednot smilingshould I do nowliving with the memory of your losses?