Transcendent Call

My hair and clothes stained with mud, my hands scabbed and chafed with blood.
Surpass the still lakes and among the misty fall, the long tower upon the hill glows a transcendent call.

The leaves a crisp tinge, strained underneath my treads, while my blood seeps with a curdled flow nearing me dead.

If a fox were to find me, the creature would surely sense the sickly taint of fear, abide the poison in my blood.

The pain grows strong and I fear I am stuck within these woods till dawn,
Till the sun has lashed the last midsummer winds,
Till the last wince of my glowing tower upon the hills.

But my little eyes grow weaker by the closing of the night,
And the bright transcending call is now nothing but a light,
A light that trances me like a fly, Oh ! I feel I fade by and by.

At last I hear a cawing crow,
The leaves are still and my limbs grow cold. 

But I smile and kiss to the last twinkle of stars,
for the crow will lift my soul and carry me away,
from the burning sight of this new day. 

© 2010 Crystalina Scales

Leviathan

 

Leviathan

The enlighten lenities
that tend my soul
The sweet levity
that feels my mind
The lewd cruelty
that holds me bind

This and all
I close my eyes
Hoping and wanting
to know in time

To know the leviathan
of all seas
to know the serpent
coiling in me

 © 2010 Crystalina Scales

Little Blue Bear

There was once a boy,
With a heart of gold and a soul of a lion.

Who grew up in poverty,
Sleeping in a shed,
Keeping his terrors and fears faraway.

One night his mum gave him a little blue bear,
Kissing him goodnight she grew in despair,
Knowing that one day her little boy,
Who would grow a man and leave to fight the wars that never end.

The blood that falls,
The cries that call,
Death to come,  
To broken hearts and broken homes.

A godless eye, a godless hour

All those sorrows grew old,
With wrinkles of worries and aches of waiting.

Little blue bear was no longer in beds,
But on a shelf with a blue torn head,
Eyes that know secrets,
Fur that feels troubles.

Little Blue bear,
Never to say,
of the little boy who grew a man,
and left on that dreary day. 


© 2010 Crystalina A. Scales


















 

The Conquest

I sat amongst fruit which poisoned from within smelt of a past longing for hope,
With one bite a spread of fire warms the belly,
And soon your desirous of finding a way amongst the woods that birth such fruit, is only a matter of time.

It is our nature to follow what may be our undoing, but it is also our beauty to conquer it.



© 2010 Crystalina A. Scales

The New Child

The New Child
By: Crystalina A. Scales 

There was once a child whose eyes were deep with affliction, she spoke in such grace and reserved manner no one minded her nature to avoid familiarities with others. Despite such hardness in her eyes the beauty of the world mystified the child. Her first word being “flower”, the colours and slight rays of light that would glisten off moist petals in the mornings. Her curiosity of the world had never ceased, becoming a lingering thirst for more, but there was a lot of sadness and horror she had seen as well in the beauty, too much to bear at times. Her soul became heavy at such a young age and breaking free of a common life that she saw so many fall into would be her striving hope to conquer.

She felt there was something inside her wanting to show everything and nothing at the same time. A potential for greatness with a tint of malicious nature, it’ a fine balance but it is with most things in this world.

Sitting on her fathers lap, curling her fingers along his worn out collar she gazed within his eyes and wondered what kind of beauty he saw in her. 

© 2010 Crystalina A. Scales 

If Noses Could Dream

If Noses Could Dream
By: Crystalina A. Scales

There once was a nose,
Who thought it quite clever,
It did not need a face,
It dreamt of a place (if noses could dream)
Of kingly gold shine and lace,
A box of some kind would be quite divine,
And no longer just part of a face.

It wrinkled and squirmed,
It sniffed and snorted and looked well funny being quite contorted
Then out came a whoosh of bogey and air,
But sadly the nose, it was still there...

And now what we think only a sneeze,
Is truly our nose eager to be an escapee,
For just a box with shiny gold and lace,
To keep it snug in hold in its new place.

© 2010 Crystalina A. Scales

The Man Who Wept

The Man Who Wept
By: Crystalina A. Scales

There once was a man who travelled through the woods and sat amongst a tree weeping through out the nights. Many creatures came by wondering why he does cry, only to take a mere glance and continue on their way. One night a fox danced by and stopped to hear the horrible sobs. Without a beat the fox spoke to the man.

"dear sir, why do you cry, is the night not appeasing with such lights to play along with the moon and stars". The man looked up in surprise, to hear such a pleasant voice. "Oh fox, you see, I try and try but the stars do not allow me to play amongst them".

The fox lifted her head with a loud bark "Is that all? well dear sir I will capture those stars and make them dance for you, for I am a fox you see and foxes are well known for such swiftness and cunning talents". With a swish of her tail she pounced to the highest trees and spoke to the stars with a lullaby sound bringing small fires down to the ground.

The man rose from his sorrow and watched such fires dance, faster and faster, hotter and hotter. They danced till the man was engulfed by it's flames. Still he smiled and laughed while his flesh burned to bones and his bones to ash. Until the stars grew weary and dimmed to nothing, leaving a smell of madness and blackened wood.

The fox watched in a curious splendour and was intrigued by what foolish wants humans have, to indulge in such dangerous pleasures that only lead to their own demise.


 © 2010 Crystalina A. Scales