And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, "'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door- Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;- This it is, and nothing more.
In death we vanquished enemies,In death, we slew our foes.Blood soaked rage engulfed our blades,When blood lust took its hold.__n death, a darkness troubled one,In death, concealed, undone.Deep in darkness dragons wait,When blood would set the sun.__n death, we glorified his name.In death, we saw too late,When drink, to him, we raised in praise,The dragon sealed his fate.__n death, we lived. In death, we fought.In death, we grew to hate.In death, the blackened wraith released,The blinded shade beneath.__n death, his darkened eyes grew dim.In death, his mind was lost within.With blackened eyes, he slew his kin,In death, we lost to him.__n death, I took up sword and slew.In death, the dragon__ wrath ensued.We had no choice. The dragon fumed.In death, he was consumed.__n death, our brother__ blood deplored,In death, our brother, did I gore,When I rose up and killed one more.His blood ensconced my sword.__rom death, his mutterings are weak.From death, his voice, to me, it speaks.Entombed within my brother__ keep,Revived in death, he sleeps.
Dolor and Shadow
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In death we vanquished enemies,In death, we slew our foes.Blood soaked rage engulfed our blades,When blood lust took its hold.__n death, a darkness troubled one,In death, concealed, undone.Deep in darkness dragons wait,When blood would set the sun.__n death, we glorified his name.In death, we saw too late,When drink, to him, we raised in praise,The dragon sealed his fate.__n death, we lived. In death, we fought.In death, we grew to hate.In death, the blackened wraith released,The blinded shade beneath.__n death, his darkened eyes grew dim.In death, his mind was lost within.With blackened eyes, he slew his kin,In death, we lost to him.__n death, I took up sword and slew.In death, the dragon__ wrath ensued.We had no choice. The dragon fumed.In death, he was consumed.__n death, our brother__ blood deplored,In death, our brother, did I gore,When I rose up and killed one more.His blood ensconced my sword.__rom death, his mutterings are weak.From death, his voice, to me, it speaks.Entombed within my brother__ keep,Revived in death, he sleeps.
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Love is an exorcism of angels.
This apartment, which you no doubt profanely suppose to be the shop of Will Wimble the undertaker --a man whom we know not, and whose plebeian appellation has never before this night thwarted our royal ears --this apartment, I say, is the Dais-Chamber of our Palace, devoted to the councils of our kingdom, and to other sacred and lofty purposes.
If on thoughts of death we are fed,Thus, a coffin, became my bed.
Neither spoke, but lat silently listening to the ticking of the clock. A stair creaked, and a squeaky mouse scurried noisily through the wall. The darkness was oppressive, and after lying for some time screwing up his courage, he took the box of matches, and striking one, went downstairs for a candle.At the foot of the stairs the match went out, and he paused to strike another; and at the same moment a knock came so quiet and stealthy as to be scarcely audible, sounded on the front door.The matches fell from his hand and spilled in the passage. He stood motionless, his breath suspended until the knock was repeated. Then he turned and fled swiftly back to his room, and closed the door behind him. A third knock sounded through the house.
THE CONSCIOUS HUMANYou are not just white,but a rainbow of colors.You are not just black,but golden.You are not just a nationality,but a citizen of the world.You are not just for the right or left,but for what is right over the wrong.You are not just rich or poor,but always wealthy in the mind and heart.You are not perfect, but flawed.You are flawed, but you are just.You may just be conscious human,but you are also a magnificentreflection of God.Suzy Kassem__he Conscious Human_ Poetry by Suzy Kassem