The Void: A Shocking Thought

A fish like that of and old newness.
A fish from the deep blueness.
Into the shallows it has come.
Shock waves in the water.
All is not well, this is not happening.
This fish, a daddy's daughter.
He will be angry, I am angry at myself.
Why have I done this? I am so dumb!
How could this happen I do not know,
but it has to stop. It has to go!
For if not, a bomb would surely blow!

The Face of Evil

This is a poem I wrote for one of my drawings called the Face of Evil.

Evil deep within its eyes, emanating hate.
A wicked grin amongst the gnarled skin.
Coaxing the victim into a deep rut, sin.
Like a snake, its eyes, hypnotizing.
Drawing in its prey, licking cracked lips.
Dread it is, this thing. This evil.
The Face of Evil rearing its ugly head.
Today is not the day for it, today is mine!
Seize the day! Seize the hour!
Seize Evil by the neck with God's power!

Life

A new chapter, a new year!
A new adventure, given to me
by life herself.
A wonderful thing it is, life.
I have no idea what I'd do
without it.
New experiences day in and
day out.
How wonderful it is to live!

Ocean Storm

Deep in the confines of my mind
is where I go to fester, to unwind.
But the sea, it's getting worse.
The storm inside me is raging.
A great eye stares down at me
from the clouds.
The flaming sword and that quiet
beach come back to my vision.
Lightning calls to its brother,
Descend upon him!
A great thunder fills my chest,
I am about to explode.
I can feel it in my being.
The storm is about to be let free.
The storm I try to hold, to keep
packed away.
In the ocean it lies, like a shark
waiting for a chance to attack.
Festering, brewing...scheming.
Is this what Father spoke of?
The ocean in all of its madness?
The sea in all of its anger?
The river in all of its strength?
In the eye of the storm now, that
eye is now bigger than ever, staring
down at me from the clouds.
For now, there is peace. But soon,
the storm will escape, and I will be
powerless to stop it.

The Great Scheme: The Battle

Like an ocean beach, they come in waves.
The valley wolves, with their red eyes
and black fangs.
Today will be long and hard.
Mountain wolves gather from every
corner of the four winds.
The howls seem to be coming from
the valley itself.
The Warriors and their re-found Lost
emerge from the thicket, bloodied
and bruised.
The sun climbs over the horizon,
and with it, the valley wolves.
Their sharp, red claws, clicking on
the sun-warmed stone.
They charge, their teeth bared
and their hackles raised.
Like a black wave, they defy the wind.
Time for war.
The Warriors' group will not make it!
They must attack now.
Howling, the mountain wolves charge
into battle, biting and clawing and
growling.

The sun, falling down from the sky.
The battle is over.
Battered and broken, the mountain
wolves are victorious.
Patches of fur missing, they climb
back up the mountain, to their Lord.
The valley is quiet...for now.