When Smokey sings
I hear violins.
long roads the sword of fury craves,
hard walls it builds around the soft,
farslayer howls acrosss the world,
shards of vivid primary colors, shattered on a parsnip,
god.
It's been a long time, a long time, she said - corrosive, mangled and skewed.
so I draw.
It's simply time.
long roads the sword of fury craves,
hard walls it builds around the soft,
farslayer howls acrosss the world,
shards of vivid primary colors, shattered on a parsnip,
god.
It's been a long time, a long time, she said - corrosive, mangled and skewed.
so I draw.
It's simply time.
posted by Balázsy András at 8:44 PM
2 Comments:
Wow, dude, it is a freaky poem. Did you have weird dreams last night (starring your ex-girlfriend perhaps)?
Who is that 'she' in the poem? I read your archives and I remember you nicknamed your ex-lady 'Chain Smoking Accountant'....
It's not an actual person.
No weird dreams either - I have not been sleeping well lately though, so perhaps it's simply that I don't remember the dreams. The sword references are from the Song of Swords (great books by Fred Saberhagen, the Book(s) of Lost Swords and the Book(s) of Swords) but the rest of it is original.
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