Karakite:

Frozen nightmares haunt my dreams.

I watch my breath go up like steam

my freezing hands cling to a match,

in hopes to find some heat to snatch.

Slowly do I watch it die,

and for a moment, just a moment, here I lie.

Prayer to the Void:

If Void is nothing,

what kind of shape does it take?

What name to call it?

Will one know it to see it?

Can one find it by searching?

Untitiled:

Dawn greets the new day.

Birds call out to eachother.

Each song pure sweetness.

Untitled:

Not food nor drink nor love will quench this thirst.

With a hunger I am cursed

that yearns and calls and pulls with dark'ng twist.

Tearful I lay crumpled like a fist,

Unsatisfied.

Ode to the Dragon Tamer:

Let this fire sleep within the beast.

Do not stir its passions deep.

For should you wake it in the least,

you should find within it sleeps

a soul so young and innocent

the beast would cry out in lament.

This beast you see, though eons old,

scarcely stirs you'd think it dead.

its heart made out of stone so cold,

for naught but scraps has it been fed.

And what now should it see

but a morsel such as thee?

What's a beast to think,

riddle ringing in its ears,

cheeks turned pink

with fear.

Whats a beast to think,

drunk on thoughts more sweet than drink?

The Eyes of the Goddess:

Your eyes are like the golden echo of an ancient chamber

like God's gift granted

like love poured from an alabaster vase

like sacred sand, stained with blood

like first blood

like the taste of disappointment

like so many forgotten childhood dreams and memories

like a silver bell in a dark room

like something you can't explain but you know is there

like the solstice

like a need

like a friend you've never met before

like castles in the clouds

like a phantom limb

like what home must feel like.

Nature:

She creates her own architecture,

giant barrel-vaulted ceilings, crackling with light and violence.

Endless vistas painted painted in broad brushstrokes,

towering above my ant-like body.

Great sky-waves threatening to crash down and wash me away,

grind me down,

erode me

until there is nothing left, not even a memory to cling to.

When she turns her back she leaves me in silent darkness, waiting for her to change her mind.

With a shift of her hips she leaves me hot and cold.

What can I do but pray for her forgiveness?

Untitiled:

I wish that I could disappear

for a day or for a year.

Oh that I could go away

for a night or for a day.

That I could find a moment's peace.

Once, just once, before I decease.

To watch that time unfurled

I'd give up all the world.

But here I am, here and now

with all and only what time that Time herself allow.

Karakite:

In the land of Karakite

there lays a castle out of sight.

The wretched king there bears no name,

It's utterance was lost to shame.

On his throne he sits defiant,

and barren halls still echo silent.

Karakite:

It always snows in Karakite.

It snows all day and snows all night.

No one stays in Karakite,

those that stay are doomed to pray,

those that flee are doomed to fight

Drifts and dunes build up from snow.

What lurks beneath we do not know.

For lonely places are home to many a crime

and places such as this are old as oldest time.

Karakite:

I don't know how long I wandered in that white oblivion. I don't even know how it was I got to be there. At the time it didn't seem to matter. There was something hypnotic about the crunch of snow under my feet, the way the pale sunlight filtered through the heavy falling snow. There was no wind to speak of, and somehow the deafening silence made the cold seem less dangerous. It seemed peaceful to wander in such a lonely place, and for a time I believed I was alone. I remember being surprised when I found it. It seemed preposterous that there should be a human settlement in this shapeless land, doubly preposterous that I should find it through the heavy falling snow. It had seemed a given that I must be wandering in circles, as I had no bearings, and the constant falling snow prevented backtracking for anything more than a few minutes. It was chance to find that place, chance or fate.

Untitled:

I lost my words the other day.

The wind picked up,

they flew away.

On and on the wind they flew.

Where they went

I wish I knew.

Yet somehow,

I hope they'll find someone someday.

I hope they'll find someplace to stay.