Smithies of My Mind

The fires of my soul
are burning hot.
I have stirred them up
for a long time, for ages.

In them I want to forge
words of truth,
make them pure as light
and engrave them with silver,
adorn them with the beauty of rare gems.

In the smithies of my mind
I shall create,
I shall bring forth
ancient forces of emotion,
make them shine in starlight;
no, in complete darkness even
to make shudder the hearts
of mankind.

First published here.

Comments

Fern

This was an early picture that I took with my mum's first digital camera. I had lots of fun with the macro function in our backyard and in some of the parks in our little town. That was before I was made aware that people would usually deal drugs in those parks and was forbidden to go. I went anyways.

Just Take My Soul

Just take my soul, piece by piece, rip it apart, dissolve it and pour it down the drain. I'll be better off among my own, among the dead. You think I'm a liar, maybe I am. Who knows what's real anyway? I can see my world slowly dissolving around me. I wish I could burn my skin and flesh away, dissolve with my world into nothingness - a fast, floating dream without any impact. Is now the time to say goodbye?

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