Tag Archives: AP

Dancing Fire

There’s a mystical sort of place out there,
Where the North Wind always blows,
The presence of winter hangs on the air,
And a forest of creaking pines grows,

They say that fire dances across the sky,
So many vivid colors for one and all to see,
Beautiful enough that it seems a lie,
Shimmering lights that conceal a mystery,

Crimson reds and velvet blues,
Blazing golds and forest greens,
Curtains of radiant and dancing hues,
So high up above the evergreens,

There’s this place beyond all your dreams,
Where the heavens alight with dancing flame,
A land of rugged rocks and babbling streams,
Where magic is still real and not just a claim.

BY Hegemony

Beauty of Betrayal

Reality has gone too cold,
Sapping life out of everything,
Somehow I wrestled my way back into that dream world,
Now that was a total surprise,
Betrayal nips at my heels,
Hideously beautiful,
I can’t believe this is happening,

Normal has not served us well,
We have become puppets in a mindless mess,
Individual response is seldom enough,
They try but they too are taken,
By the end of the story it becomes pretty simple,
Bad things happen to good people,
Why can’t we just let it rest?

Deep rooted hatred and irresponsible hostility,
Blackens and tarnishes everything it touches,
Our enemy often knows who we are before we discover who we are,
The four horsemen are coming soon,
They ride on the winds of chaos,
Thunder, rumbling,
There is a very real, highly structured form of darkness,

From the whims of a girl to the wisdom of a woman,
She was betrayed by such blind beauty,
Thus he lured her off the path to her true destiny,
A trophy with no words or voice to speak,
The others saw it but were left powerless,
They waved their fragmented weapons at a laughing enemy,
There is no isolated or insulated child who can escape the attack.

BY Hegemony

A Glass Bottle

Sand cured by the heat of fire,
Shaped to form a vessel,
As transparent as our lives,
Yet as sealed as our hearts,

And from that same sand,
We place within the vessel,
Relics from the briny deep,
Vibrant in color and texture.

Simple in shape and form,
So common we don’t notice,
A capsule of memories,
A vessel forged from hot sand.

BY Hegemony

Never More

No more risk, no,
never more,
Too much pain to be had,
Too much risk to take a chance,
No more mystery,
never more,

It’s not worth the effort,
Nor the time,
Won’t allow the past
to repeat…never more,

Can’t accept the cold
of the unknown,
It burns, it hurts,
It chills to the bone,
Eyes closed, can’t look,
No guessing,
No enigma, no,
Never more.

BY Hegemony

Timber Wolf

wolf

A ghostly vesper,
With soulful eyes she gazes,
Contemplating, debating,
Confident yet anxious,
The north wind blows,
She sniffs and howls,
A haunting cry that echoes,
echoes across the valley,

She digs in her paws,
The snow is so cold,
Another sniff,
Another question,
Where to go,
What to do, she wonders,
Her ears perk up,
A howl echoes back,

She springs to life,
With swiftness and surety,
The timber wolf charges,
Panting, gasping,
The cold air burns,
But she presses on,
She searches and seeks,
for veiled answers.

BY Hegemony

Wrath

For a moment, there is the calm before the storm,
A dire omen of what will come,
Time seems to stand still and silent,
The world seems to wait with baited breath,
Then my heart begins to burn,
Whipped up by the bellows of acrimony,
Until it is engulfed by an inferno
That spreads its way up into my throat,
It feels as if I am choking on bile,
Harsh and hot and foul tasting,

I stand up straighter and puff out my chest
Like a peacock on the war path,
I narrow my eyes ’til they are almost closed
And I grit my teeth together,
It starts with a whispered hiss,
Then it builds in a mighty crescendo,
‘Til I am screaming and howling,
Caught in the throes of my temper,
I clench my fists and wave them about,
To intimidate and to appear strong,

Then my mind sparks to life,
Thoughts bubble up, hot and agitated,
Like a cauldron I boil and churn
‘Til the thoughts can no longer be contained,
They flow like an erupting river of lava,
Gushing towards my tongue and lips,
My mouth becomes a molten maw
Of displeasure and indignation,
I part my lips and the venom flows,
Toxic words of hatred and vengeance,

BY Hegemony

Bliss

Bliss is a field of lush grass beneath a blue sky,
Dotted with countless golden dandelions,
And there is a tree, a large oak tree,
With branches to shelter from the sun,
A place where time loses its meaning,
Where the trials of the world fade away,
To be replaced by the singing of a songbird
Or the frenetic dance of a dragonfly,

Bliss is a place cut away from civilization,
With neither building nor street to be seen,
Here the wind is crisp and fresh as it blows,
Here the water is swift and clear,
Small things creep through the grass
With subtle sounds, heard but unseen,
Above, things scamper through the tree
As its branches gently creek and groan,

Bliss is a sanctuary far removed
From pollution and perversion,
Where the wild things live and thrive,
A paradise birthed by nature,
From the warm of the sun’s rays
To the cool shade of an oak tree,
From the fragrance of colorful flowers
To the dew that clings to emerald leaves,

Bliss is an ode to a slow and lazy day
Spent in the embrace of the outdoors,
Where problems are a by-gone memory
And nothing more,
Resting beneath a tree in sweet ignorance
With closed eyes and open ears to
Take in nature’s melodious symphony,
As time meanders by, aimless and tranquil.

By Hegemony

Listless Life

Many people are shackled to life,
Hands that were once creative
bound in long and heavy chains,
Here and there and back again,
Repeating each day on end,
Over and over ad infinitum,
Life bleeding ’til veins run dry,
Gutted by the blade of monotony,

They toil and work and slave away
for a reward that is anything but,
And their wills are beaten, broken,
‘Til they are nothing but shells,
Empty husks of themselves,
Chasing a golden apple that is
dangled in front of their noses,
Always held just beyond reach,

And when the sun retires to rest,
They shuffle back to their abodes
and they fall into their readied beds,
Tossing and turning in restless sleep,
‘Til dawn’s coming, when they stir,
Awakening to labor and to toil,
Like cogs in a mindless machine,
They spin but get nowhere.

BY Hegemony