I have seen Maelstroms Eternal

I have seen Maelstroms Eternal

I write with flowers of ink,
thy love poured out on page,
in a slumbering alder away in endless flight;
swaying with the stars, so white 'gainst the black night sky.
Facing the horizons, on the calm black waters called -ink.
-I write for thee that thy heart be free.
I have seen maelstroms eternal,
mount in my soul but endless;
-An abyss without thee, I dare thee not.
By starlight the rushes lean over thee wide:
-The ink on the page is erased,
-The text is long forgotten.
                   -A.M. Snow

The Tyranny of Man

The Tyranny of Man 

The infanticide of man,
who are we to decide the lives of infants
whom not born yet to see the greed of man?
Who are we to challenge life,  yet to lose life itself?
Such irony is God we seek, is the God we banished;
yet we wonder why He has forsaken us:
Not He, but we have forsaken Him.
We tarnished the name for which man once stood,
all for power of a corrupted mind
and for money, the greatest sin of the Earth.
We threw away the sanctity of marriage,
the truth it once held;
casting out God's plan for that of man.
Love has no meaning, no truth but lies
it is corrupted by that of man.
So sad the greed this world now has,
the rich of man to rob the poor.
To love without a cost just for greed,
to find laughter in today's bloodshed,
oh how we are so blind to see,
we are the end of man;
the infanticide of the innocence of man,
a victim of our own misdeeds.
-A.M. Snow

Under the Innocent Sky

Under the Innocent Sky

Under the innocent sky,
ever serene and fair.
Beauty is the stars on high,
taking away our despair.

Ever so silent it can be,
with still a melody that can be heard.
Close your eyes imagine free,
with wings stretched wide, like a morning bird.

Soaring through the dark blue sky,
ever serene and fair;
joining with the stars on high,
feeling the wind between your hair.

Even though the dream's not true,
we can still admire from afar,
the beauty the sky, so dark and blue,
and the many dancing stars.

-A.M. Snow

The Ghost

The Ghost

In this world I sought for,
who I am and many more;
without a reason but a treason.
I without a life, but with a life and none;
to live is profound, much greater is death.
If I could confound, it is that I'm not worthy
for life and for death.

Do I confined myself within my chamber,
to count the days till I remember?
Who am I? Who am I?

Who am I to curse myself so freely, so easily?
A ghost with a reflection,
with no hope, no resurrection.
I encumber my tears
with all things I fear,
there is no end for which I dream.
-A.M. Snow

Trapped within the Minds of Poe

Trapped within the Minds of Poe

Once upon a nightful somber,
entranced within a loreful slumber;
a murky pass it feels to be:
this dream, this world it calls me.

Dragging, falling deeper within a void,
my mistress Fear and I devoid.
Clinching my chest, my racing heart pounds,
alone in darkness with many sounds;
one in particular from a raven afar,
'Nevermore.' said he with my ears ajar.

Intrigued was I by an outspoken raven
perched upon a branch, in a realm of non-haven.
'Nevermore.' said he, spreading wings to flutter,
"Where am I?" I spoke with utter.
"All that I see or seem
is it but a dream within a dream?"
but the raven he quoth again, 'Nevermore.'
lost I feel, lost evermore.

The raven vanishes, taking me back to slumber;
waking again with my eyes a somber.
Finding my hands and feet a bound,
above a pit with a pendulum confound.
Approached by a man thought to be dead,
Poe he spoke with so much dread.
'We loved with a love that was more than love.'
spoke he, as I lay watching the pendulum above.

It swings with a flutter as it slowly drops to me,
my voice is muted; I am force to see
as the pendulum drops, my flesh gets torn.
My eyes again fell somber as I forlorn.
I close my eyes welcoming death,
getting ready to take my last breath.

I feel it wash over me, it is just that;
my memories flashing like tat.
This nightmarish of a dream, I feel forsaken;
my sorrow; I could not awaken.
-A.M. Snow

Then Heaven be Free

Then Heaven be Free

See me now, a vision nor ghost;
lively to be yet to boast:
A treasure above thus love.
Lively we are, to see yet to be
romantically entwined,
yet aligned
served with a purpose and not in fuss.
If we're to be, then heaven be free;
If we're not meant to live,
then our lives we proudly give.
Even so-on, 'gainst dawn;
forever wandering, forever pondering.
Who to say thus love,
dost not abide above,
but above abide thus love
and thus ends thy love.
-A.M. Snow

Milady of the Sea

Milady of the Sea

Beauty engulfs her extravagant being,
Cursing me silent; without thought, without seeing.
Being as it may be, a bewitching beauty.
Leaving me speechless and lost in dreams.
Her sweet melody calling, drowning me-
Depths of despair; my home, my sea.
Echoing of tunes, O' sweet melody;
Beauty half that of piscine.
The moon itself glistens for her,
It dances around her angelic sound.
Entrap me, O' milady of the sea-
Take I with thee sweet melody.
The great blue we go forth, endeavor and so forth;
Lost to the sweet sound sung forever.
The cascading ray ignites her beauty,
Reflections go forth from the sea.
I met her eyes for moment still,
Her melody fallen my heart to ill.
How it's so I, lost in thoughts thought of her-
Milady or not, forevermore dream of her?

-A.M. Snow

Burden

Burden

My heart is my burden,
it suffocates me to the extent of a dream.
My dreams is my agony to my baring flesh;
I am that which is weak.
-A.M. Snow

She is Agony

She is Agony

The world is cruel,
It's dark and Hell.
"Agony is her."
The demons yell.
We drink from blood,
And kill the youths.
Lost in Her flood;
Love is the curse.
-A.M. Snow

I Wonder

I Wonder

I wonder,
I wonder if this life is life at all;
If it's a dream, then I may fall.
The feelings I embrace may be false;
The triumph of love, this moonlight waltz.
Memories I hold dear,
Thoughts of fear:
Are they all that which they seem,
A fragments of a shattered dream?
But whom to say this dream is real,
Even though we may not feel.
It harms me to say,
I don't wish it this way.
-A.M. Snow

Dusk Infernal

Dusk Infernal

The quivering of a lost beating heart,
Loses it's melody, a song.
Aloft from a quivering start;
Dusk, where it belongs.
Yet naught nigh nor eternal,
Shall be forever alone,
Engulfed in life's infernal;
Baring our heads, we atoned.
Though this heart melody cease;
We rage wars:
Triumph to the Beast
On bloodshed shores.
Our reflection's shown
in the bloodstained sands,
Of our sins alone,
Held in pierced hands.
-A.M. Snow

The Day America Died

The Day America Died

This is the day America has died,

it is a day for mourning; a time to hide.

For the children's are crying,

for their love ones who's dying.

This is the day,

our freedom's stripped away.

We forgotten, 'One nation under God'?

Yet it was Him who we outlawed.

This is truly a sad day;

I must say,

'God save America again.'

We forgotten the message written with iron pen;

'that all men are created equal'

now we are all sinful.

This is the day America has died;

to the people, the President's lied.

The children's are hungry,

even the blind can see

how our great nation has fallen,

and how our freedom is stolen.

What about, 'We the people'

I guess we lost our soul.

We should be united,

but instead we're divided.

What about our flag under fire;

the red, white, and blue we once admired?

What was once 'the Land of the Free'

now becomes 'the Land of the Greed.'

There's just so much that I wish I could say,

but it seems that America has died this very day.

We lost our courage to fight,

bowed down in shame, we've lost our sight.

We've became the puppet that we are;

controlled from a distance, great and far.

Afraid to speak, for Death may follow;

subsequently afraid what lurks in the shadow.

Afraid to lend a helping hand,

to help the fallen proudly stand.

We forgotten the meaning behind this once great nation;

cowering in fear, we refuse salvation.

We curse the true Americans, the ones who's dying,

fighting through bloodshed; their families are crying.

We've let putrid lyrics taint our youth,

leaving this country with forgotten truth.

We've become weak; no more are we strong,

This ain't the America where I belong.

-A.M. Snow

Let it be O' Sun

Let it be O' Sun

Over the hills, I wait for thee;
the sunlight beam of dusk.
Yet a silent to provoke me,
yonder with the morning musk.
Yet profound by a morning sound;
the wind-chimed birds.
A beauty to be found,
within nature's words.
With the aura of a newborn day;
an outstretched colors,
painted like the month of May.
I wait for thee O' sun, light my day.
Let flowers blossom with fragrance great;
with beauty so awe it beknownst my fate.
Well beknownst to me, the soon setting sun-
denoted the beginning of night marks the end of day.
Showering me with beauty outdone,
like the birth of May.
With the grace of God, your beauty dost shine.
A proof of my existence, a fairy tale dream-
to taste life ajar, a nectar of wine
and sample the melody of the sunlight beam.

-A.M. Snow

What are We?

What are we?
A dream none-the-less
or perhaps just maybe,
a lost shepherd's sheep?

What are we?
A caged bird who sings
or are we more than what we see?
Perhaps we're a dream within itself,
or maybe the dreamer.

Have we lost our ways,
a reason to live?
Have we forgotten the beauty of life,
that of a natures worth?

Perhaps we fratricide our being,
as we fall unto greed.
We steal from the poor man,
and we give it all to the rich.

We teach the youth to kill;
to teach love is a crime.
We forgot what we once believed,
blamed it all on God, not ourselves.

What are we? Who are we?
A dream none-the-less
or perhaps just maybe,
a lost shepherd's sheep?

-A.M. Snow

I am Love's Profound Lost Love

I am Love's Profound Lost Love

I am love's profound lost love,
I fade each night away.
I have gained nothing yet lost all,
grasping the perpetual sway.

But woe as sorrow did covers me,
I kneeled before thee humbled and lost.
I gave unto thee a blood soaked quill,
and a text of a tragic play.

-A.M. Snow

The Lighthouse Witch

Back before I started poetry, for a short time I wrote short stories. I haven’t written a short story in almost ten years, so I thought I’d give it another shot again, after having this weird dream. So this story was all an actual dream I had just few days ago. I woke up one night after having this dream, I thought it was the weirdest dream yet it intrigued me to write it into a story. This story is that dream with every detail I remembered from that night.

The Lighthouse Witch
By A.M. Snow

The sun was setting on the sea; I was alone wandering for inspiration. I might’ve searched days-on-end, but all I found was nothing. I was just about to give up hope when an old rugged building had caught my eye. It was an old lighthouse and it appeared to be abandoned. It was built on a small mile long island, just a few miles off shore. I had to get a closer look; it had tickled my fancy.

The raging sea feared me not, as I climbed into an old rotten row boat. I rowed the best I could, against these crashing tides; the smashing into rocks had caused me to capsize. I held on for dear life, as the waves guide me to that island shore. I passed-out there for a bit, just few minutes’ tops. I awoke soaking wet, I walked to that lighthouse. Believing it was empty, I had to take a closer look inside. I walked to the door, but it was sealed shut. I walked to the wrapped around stairs, to the first window open. I poked my head in, and saw an old woman there. She was wearing an old rugged gown; from her waist down and her arms, was skinny like that of a skeleton, she held a book to her chest. I thought nothing of it, perhaps she was ill. “Pardon me?” I said, “I’m terribly sorry, I thought this lighthouse was abandoned.” I wait for a response, but heard nothing from her. So I left with haste; but I was just few feet from that lighthouse, when I saw an old Civil War hand cannon lying before me on the ground. As I went to pick it up, there arose a loud thundering bang.

I didn’t realized, that there were others on this island before me. As the fog cleared, what I saw was impossible. Their were several hundreds of people, getting ready to fight, and all of which worn Civil War uniforms. “Was it not two thousand and twelve?” I thought to myself. As they waged on and clashed into combat; I watched from afar, confused and without a thought.

I was surprised when two souls approached me, one a female in red coat and the other a male in blue. “What is this place?” I asked them. “Hell.” was their response. “But how?” I said with questions flowing from my tongue. “T’was the witch of the lighthouse.” they said, “She holds dear a black bound book; in it, names of souls this island once called.” I was still confused by all that had happened. I turned my eyes from them, and looked towards that old lighthouse once more. It had sparked my curiosity, and I had to see that witch once more.

I left those two behind, as they did not try to stop me. I walked up to that lighthouse; again I walked up those wrapped around stairs, and again I peaked into that window. I saw her standing there, although it had appeared that she did not move. I lifted my head and gazed in what I thought to be evil eyes, instead had found nothing but sad and loneliness. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her; I tried to hold back those feelings. I reached for that book which she held dear to her chest; but the even more impossible had happened.

It had appeared my hand had gone straight through her and the book, as if either I or she was a ghost. I looked upon her eyes once more, a thought then struck me. She was not a witch, but a ghost of a lost soul; she was someone wishing for her love to return, but this lost soul’s love was lost at sea. She was afraid of loneliness and not knowing that she was trapping souls upon this island. Now that I know the truth of her, what of my fate is now left unknown.

Days Gone By

Days Gone By

As days gone by, I think of her
but moments last was not forever.
Her angelic face haunts me still,
and without her, I am ill.

But as I leave her, but never leave her;
my feelings last forever.
I cannot part from her beauty
nor can I ever break free.

But as I love her from afar,
I wander here thus far.
To know that I had loved her;
to know that it was not forever.

I know I'll die without her name,
through this loss I'd bear my shame.
If I could do it all again,
I would do so from my heart within.

-A.M. Snow

My Mind is a White Canvas

My Mind is a White Canvas

The silence mellowed out the loudest noise conceived,
And I wonder all that I've deceived.
I dreamt all that I could dream up till now;
My mind draws blank, a white canvas what's shown.
I lost all hope to this once eternal vow,
And of this heart my voice now groan.
It is what I said, that and furthermore;
I've lost all hope of my now untimely lore.

-A.M. Snow

My Soon Forgotten Memory

My Soon Forgotten Memory

Memories gone and left me astray,
Alone without a thought, I wish it to stay.
It's all I had in this once peaceful time;
My memories and dreams, my once sublime.
I lost what was real when moments endeavour;
Alone without a memory, in this world forever.

-A.M. Snow

From the Depth of Ethereal

From the Depth of Ethereal

Such heavenly beauty beyond my human reach,
but a lowly soul this world does 'seech.
Lost in a time of tragedy and flutter;
there is a pain-so utter.
The Epiphany came in an instant and blinded me,
from the fear and rage that I now see.
I lay there in torment as time now fall,
night is the victim to this nature's call.
A haunting of melody that will not dispel;
Souls in torment as their lore now tell.
A perfect light arises from the shadows realm below,
the hidden world so far away where thoughts unspoken go.
And from the depth of Ethereal, I could still hear her heart beating;
one after another, the dark clouds are fleeting.
The dreams are real and time stands still if only you believe,
all things that test reality; the visions fools and children see.
From the Depth of Ethereal came howls of former corporeal,
as a soft gentle breeze now makes my heart feel at ease.
The wails of the dead now brings forth shudders of dread;
but this one lowly soul, peace is all she said.

-A.M. Snow