Author Archives: GS

Fading Alone

Fading Alone

Fading Alone

Fading Alone

Darkness traces the lines of my forehead,
With shadows draped before these fading eyes
As sins that no absolution might shed,
Nor penance while in this mortal disguise.

I plead guilty to the crime of being,
To the city beyond my windowpane,
With a blank gaze silently decreeing
The candlelight of all souls lit in vain,

Seeking resolution through amity
Beyond the glass reflection of my face,
(If only my loneliness to postpone)
Watching the beacons of humanity –

Like dying embers in a common space,
Burning together, yet fading alone.

~ Daniel F Mitchell

Hay-Hauler

Hay-Hauler

Hay Hauler

Hay-Hauler

I will remember you, boy man of years ago,
In the last lavender glimmer of summer day,
Walking out of the back field in a golden glow,
Wearing the perfume of sweat and newly-baled hay.

I will recall your thoughts as you looked behind you,
Beyond farm and fences to the wandering sun,
Wondering what would be, years after you were through,
And if time would still remember what you had done.

~ Daniel F Mitchell

All Hallow’s Eve

All Hallow’s Eve

All Hallow's Eve

All Hallow’s Eve

‘Tis from the hollow, mists arise
To drift beneath the autumn skies,
To usher in a dark surprise –
The night of righteousness’ demise.

Upon the rising moon they spread,
Like shrouds upon the waking dead,
The trappings of a silver bed,
From which all evil things are bred.

When wind blows through the barren trees,
There spreading as some foul disease,
There piping fearful melodies
Of never-ending tragedies,

When mischief-laden fingers snatch
The pumpkins frosted in the patch,
And in them fires of brimstone light,
And make the souls of darkness bright,

When ghouls awaken in their graves,
When vampires burst forth from their staves,
When fleshless bones arise to war,
And venture from perdition’s store,

When banshees howl out from the mire,
When werewolves sing their wicked choir,
When ghostly rites all souls inspire,
And magic sets the moon on fire,

When wake the monsters yet untold,
When zombies march the open road,
When demons lurk beyond the gate,
And darkness holds a dreadful fate,

Then know the night of doom is here,
The dawn of everlasting fear,
The opening of an evil door –
All Hallow’s Eve has come once more.

“All Hallow’s Eve!” The beasties cry.
On Hallow’s Eve, the witches fly.
On Hallow’s Eve, hell’s creatures spy.
On Hallow’s Eve, all good things die.

~ Daniel F Mitchell

The One True Word

The One True Word

The One True Word

The One True Word

Song of the lich owl,
Serenading banshee’s howl,
Wind in the church gate yearning,
Corpse-candle brightly burning,
The late night comet’s dearth,
Those silent mounds of earth,
The shadow man on the moon,
All speak the one true word.
Haven’t you already heard?
Listen carefully – you shall hear it soon.

~ Daniel F Mitchell

Calamity

Calamity

Calamity

Sing, unspeakable choirs of perdition.
Stay not thy pernicious hand.
Keep thy blood-corrupted threat.
Mow an awful harvest.
Lay low the heavens in contrition.
Make irrevocable reprimand.
Forge the foundations of eternal regret.
Kindle sulfurous hell.
The luminaries, of light divest.
Place the first last, and the last first.
In heinous execution,
Let thy prodigious ranks swell.
Loose thy relentless riders – thy henchmen.
Quench thy abominable thirst.
Strike, apocalyptic instant of obliteration!
I am beyond trepidation,
Forever, AMEN.

~ Daniel F Mitchell

Pumpkin Patch

Pumpkin Patch

Pumpkin Patch

Pumpkin Patch

A pumpkin patch is a magical plot,
A lush supernatural garden spot,
Where goblins and ghouls meet to masquerade
As plain orange pumpkins out on parade.

A pumpkin patch is a rendezvous place,
Where summer disappears without a trace,
And autumn turns down a dark, narrow lane,
To hide in vines on a parallel plane
With all of the past seasons come and gone
To their final spring on a wizen lawn.

A pumpkin patch is paradise on earth,
A haven for friendless spirits to roam,
To which all drifters are destined from birth,
A home for ghosts who never found a home.

Come, lonely wanderers, rest from your day.
Rolling, rustling, leaves will show you the way
To gather together with a drear host,
And join in chorus with the silent throng.

When some night, I become a lonely ghost,
I will haunt a pumpkin patch the night long.

 

~ Daniel F Mitchell