Darkly Dreaming Demographic.

Where weird shit hits bizarre fans.


irish poetry

Your weight on my chest

Rely on me utterly,

Put your faith in God’s design,

You guard your heart stubbornly,

I would take it to enshrine.

I will be your champion,

My chest will be your pillow,

Dream of wondrous Avalon,

Beneath a weeping willow.

I pray my love awakens,

In my arms under blue-sky,

Never tire of embraces,

On that love, you can rely.

Pagan Hearts

Open, my heart unburdened,

A gift for you love, only,

Our fate not yet determined,

To take and love you boldly.

Give me your hand beloved,

Let me kiss your lips softly,

And make us both believers,

In purest love so costly.

Leave not those words unspoken,

Your eyes the deepest ocean,

The chain of fate unbroken,

To me your heart must open.

God of Ravens

Fickle heart so tremulous,

Fear not the god of ravens,

No spite, wrath nor petulance,

Only the sweetest avens.

I sought your hand earnestly,

And yet you still pull away,

To wait for you faithfully,

Until that fated someday.

Open our hearts utterly,

A flood not just a trickle,

The truth not mere flattery,

The tides of love less fickle.


Patience tempers devotion,

I make a solemn promise,

The tempest your emotion,

I weather for you goddess.

Anguish not my sacrifice,

For it’s not at all selfless,

By your side sits paradise,

Without you I drift helpless.

Without you I’m incomplete,

Longing to hear your cadence,

My dreams dark and bittersweet,

Learning to value patience.


Parting such sweet agony,

A kiss left in time hanging,

Never to be part-of-me,

Tears in my heart left panging.

My heart I gave willingly,

All for you and none other,

Poked and prodded timidly,

And left alive to suffer.

Loved you more than stars-and-sea,

I’ll never go on hearting,

The tears I wept bitterly-

Won’t wash away your parting.

Force of nature

Coming, a force unrivaled,

Power that can’t be denied,

The world we know unravelled,

And then simply brushed aside.

What sits in place thereafter,

Of this none can be certain,

To try and court disaster,

But let not fall the curtain.

What waits beyond shambhala?

A love so pure and numbing,

To stay awhile, inshallah,

And know the waves are coming.

When first we meet

Upon our first rendezvous,

Our fated spirits meeting,

Whence our lips touch, dejavu,

However be it fleeting.

Your hand in mine homecoming,

Our fates forever entwined,

The tides of love succumbing,

By God and faeries designed.

To touch your lips transcending,

In our hearts a whole kingdom,

A world that is unending,

Shared pillow to dream upon.

In passing

Passing it seems fatefully,

To love and long and sever,

To please God most greatfully,

To touch your lips not ever.

Brush so close our destiny,

But choose only the mundane,

Love stretching through history,

What wonders it could contain.

Relinquish your attachments,

Hear Angel’s trumpets massing;

Heralding our contentment,

Or else resigned to passing.

Four ways to love

Stranger still a resonance,

A link that remained unseen,

Our hearts held fast tremulous,

A song to our souls serene.

Love that defies expression,

That is but one and many,

All things at our discretion,

Lover, friend to make merry.

In you I find confidence,

Share my heart without danger,

We float on God’s providence,

Put your hand in mine stranger.

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