BDCerridwen

Walking Down An empty street Weeds grow through the cracks Beneath my feet. The sun shines On a hot summer day I feel as if I've lost my way, Wandering alone, My identity completely unknown. Squinting to see my way Through the hot summer haze I'm in a daze, Out of phase, With my inner ways, With no place to go And no way to grow, I wander away The hot summer day Lost and alone, Completely unknown.

Welcome to My Home The Place Where I Reside Pardon the Dark Corners The Shadows in Which I Hide Please Won't You Come in We can Talk and Have Some Tea Then I'll Show You My Special Place and You can Come Die with Me To Be, Reborn to the Dark Listen Carefully Hear the Hell Hounds Bark? This is the Place Where I Truly Dwell Many People Fear it They Call it Hell I Choose This Lonely World Which Remains Souly Unblessed Where the Shadows Spawn Life and Life, is But Death Now My Darling, My love No Need to Tremble with Fear It is a Time to Rejoice For Your Rebirth is Near Please, Come Join me in my Cimmerian World Where the

Castle of Death On this night when the moon is full and round casting pale shadows on the cold, cold ground, the chill autumn breeze howls through the barren boughs of the sere and dying trees. Rustling the trees’ fallen remains on the frost bit ground, Brom Silverblade makes his way to the rusty iron gate. The gate gives with a shudder and moan as the hinges wail in protest from centuries of disuse. Brom’s iron clad boots clack noisily on the overgrown cobblestone walk leading to the once majestic mansion, a long time ago the home of a wealthy merchant no doubt. The long neglected mansion, now dark and run down from its prolonged

All Hallows Eve (The Curse of the Statue Gabriel) One Dark and Rainy Halloween after we past the time of apparitions seen We secretly made our way up the vacant street as the raindrops splashed hauntingly at our feet We cautiously approached the cemetery gate knowing not of the horrors that await slipping past the cemetery gate on that gloomy Hallows eve so late our shadows silently glided past the tombstones planted in the ground so fast like ghosts in the hall as I so vaguely recall We crept passed the mausoleum there the adumbrations giving us a good scare the open door of a crypt from which a wraith could slip? through t

Despair Drop me into the depths of despair where the light dares not shine for fear of the shadows it may reveal where the Hell Hounds Howl in hungry anticipation and the faith of Gods die Young Leave me in this mire of misery where pestilence and pain rule in a sea of death and deception where sanity laughs at lunatics bleeding in a bloody bath and the shadows of our souls hide Run, run away with mans ignorance and fear look not over your shoulder for the dark may smile and jeer!

The blackness was masked by a lucid gray mist into the shrouded mire tentatively I drift At my right hand there is a shadow, a phantom, dark and tall Stepping over fallen boughs we walk through the fen A shadow at my right a fiend, a somber friend A low soft voice whispers within my head "Someday, all this could be yours." The fallen boughs lie in bed over sleeping corpses we continue our stroll A chill zephyr whispers clearing the ghastly mist I shudder with affright as sere leaves rustle and hiss Gravestones appear markers of the heavy toll "Someday, all this could be yours." A voice, deep within my soul!

A blonde valkeri I see before me Moving in rhythmical grace Forever unseen is her face With silk blonde hair, so fair Tall of stature, firm and lean Her identity remains unseen. In her brilliant radiance I am consumed.

I am Tuatha Dé Danaan, a child, a descendent of the Goddess Danu. I am the Grandson of Bile, Belenus, of whom Beltane receives its name. I am ‘An Dorche Aon’, ‘The Dark One’. I am the keeper of all that is dark and beautiful, the keeper of the dead. I am Donn, the God of Death. Fear me not, and life shall be yours.

Fete Macabre One dark and dolorous night when lambently the stars did shine and the moon shed its silvery light a cool delicate zephyr stirred the damp night air gently caressing a thin wispy mist so fair Within the damp brume brought well-nigh Spirits of the dead did arise to my deliriously delighted averse high. Swirling in serpentine silence a fete macabre of grand coincidence I watched with horrified awe as the spirits of the dead did dance elated, at what my mortal eyes saw. The very essence of my soul quickened an invocation to my dying life it did lend As the night grew stale and the mourning light began to shine the