The Vulture Man

For all ye men
I am yer bane
I slay and then
I shave yer mane.

I live off death
And harvest rubble
With weed and meth
I cause yer trouble.

The sun has died
And gone to rest
But in the night
I count me blessed.

For deserts howl
And rivers roar
This cloaking cowl
Will hide me no more.

But I'm the scum
Of the blasted earth
No kingdom'll come
There ain't no more birth.

The Fallout of the world inspired me. I hope things won't come to this.

The Shepherd

The tears I hear are calling
At the heart of my door
And the trumpets of the Lord
Are blaring evermore.

You told me once that you're so ashamed
That the world was laughing still
But the world knows not whom to blame
For its sins upon the hill

I'll draw my cloak about you
And hide you from the world
You'll see naught but darkness
And the comfort of my warmth

For you are so precious to me
And you are like a sea
And the sun whose rays scorch you
Will be hidden so by me

So don't hurt any longer
For I'll be your loving shepherd
The wolves will never find you
And you'll never want for fear

This is a response to the poem 'Sorry.' The author will understand.

Captive of the Golden One

They cannot see their way
The light is not of day
The flashes are for the flood
Heralding, steeped with mud

The shell is closed round me
I cannot shake it loose
I will not try to flee
For the world outside's a noose

My heart is closed for fear
What I want I cannot find
Even when you draw so near
I turn you out from my mind

It's not a fault of yours
I am just like this way
You knock on all my doors
But my thought is far away

Sometime I wish you'd crack me
And set me oh so free
But in this mount of madness
I hope you never find me

For though I'm here and breathing
She's always far away
And though I'm here and breathing
She lives in another day

So don't come a-calling
For the snow has washed me down
And I no longer wander through these halls
And I rest in the Gold One's mound.

This is not about anybody in particular, before you get too excited. It began as such, but seems the words have gotten away from me....

Madness...

Where does fancy flow?
Where do waters go?

On the tip of my dream
is anything real?
For everything does seem
like an ether
caught in a stream

Are those sounds the sounds of light?
Or birds caught in flight?
Does that clock on the mantle there tick
Or is my mind clouding over thick?
Is this warmth the warmth of cold?
Or am I getting far too old?

My mind has wandered far
reaching for the cold star
Into mounts I climb
Hanging on to vines
For in the darkness shines
All the light of my wandering time

In the room I lay, thinking of all things
You too were there, ringing on the wings
The clouds were fairly thick
Your hair was raven slick
And through the door there came
The man who I once blamed

But now my mind is gone
Down there in the twilight Grond
And ever since I fell to you
I never said the things I thought I knew
And you have driven me over the edge
My mind is gone, my weakness pledge

And I see all that was before
And all that is, I hear come to call
For I see the day that draws so near
The cold war, it is so clear
And the day that will close all men
Will come to you; but until then

I'll sit upon this cloud of mine
Till all the world does rob me blind

Skyfall

Here we thought we'd be,
Lights over rooftops, the visions of sages;
The chorus of the seraphim,
And the workings of the ages.

Cut loose from our moorings,
We drifted out to sea;
The new days were dawning,
Though we saw through heaven, we're so lonely.

Clear out to the golden wood,
We held our white salvation;
Far away on the shore we stood,
And saw our machinations.

Into the depths we swam,
And saw the lonely rain;
There were ghost town from where we ran,
The crops harvesting sea-grain.

These eyes were cast to me, seeing all that was,
I held my breath in vain, seeing I could fly;
I don't think I am lost,
And then I fell into the sky.

The Hilltop

The howling wind o'er ragged rock
Tore across the darkened moor
The hardened man of grimmer stock
Watched the ones who came before.

The howling wind cried out in fright
And the man responded in kind
But the howling wind gave up for night
And the man was struck down blind.

The man who fell went down upon the rock
And rested in the blackening mist
The wind fitted its key to the lock
The frightened door made a furtive hiss

The night wasted further away
Upon the grassy slopes
The day then came out to play
The flowers rose out of the ground
And the rose and daisy elopes

The man came to and shook his head
His ragged toussled mane
He wondered where he had made his bed
And what was the secret of his name?

Cloak

From my last summer-breath
To the ending of the age
When the hills close above
and the sky rains down flame.

But in the end
I'll be who I will be
Though until then
You'll be secret to me.

Out of the snow
Comes a Dark, mishapen form
I fight, high and low
Until the breaking of the dawn.

Until the last, I remove his hoary head
And at last I know, and see
When I lay him to his final bed
The monster's face is me.

If you do see this poem, it's for you. It came to me, and I think in this sense it is appropriate. Gollum inspired me, and I hope he rests in peace.

The Feather Maiden

Beneath the leaves of the wood
Like snow from a highland dale
Shone its faint beauty
Ever white, ever pale.

The porcelain of the dark-lit enclosed lanes
Like the soft flight of flower-beams
The moon-petals glimmered ever the same
Like a maiden, lost in dreams.

The Feather, light and airy
Fluttered in the dead-night elder wind
Like a messenger from Faerie
And on them the stars above grinned.