🔵 By Richard Smith. Photo by lauragrafie.
The winter dances
to full moon light.
Playing music
for the creatures of night.
To the sirens call,
the men they beckon.
Broken souls they are,
headed to damnation.
Ghost and ghouls dance glowing dead light.
Such a wondrous spectacle.
Should this be beauty?
Should this be a fright?
Vampires drink their fill.
Their worshipers blind.
Uncaring to their destiny,
a sacrifice of the mind.
Beliel stands accusing,
flames of hell in his eyes.
The truth he speaks,
coming from the Father of Lies.
A few lonely knights,
against demon might.
Hope against hope,
fighting off every slight.
The gate keepers are cold,
they do not care.
The love of their God
is the hatred they bear.
This journey is not yet done
when Lilith takes my hand.
Her request to delight in her
ends my final stand.
As I lay awake
I know I am whole.
Was it just a dream
or a reflection of my soul?
I know I sought redemption,
have I met God?
Yet this dream
has left me feeling odd.
I look at the time.
I must get up soon.
I already know
I’ll forget this dream by noon.
As the day passes,
the dream does not fade.
More like dejavu,
but not a hell I made.
In this prison
I see what I dreamt.
A fantastical version of this place,
I saw while I slept.