The Jester

Nothing comes, nothing comes like the setting of the sun, like a song already sung, nothing comes, nothing comes. Still he stands there, getting redder as the silence starts to fester. Still sad silence from the jester: nothing comes, nothing comes. People wait and watch and grumble as the jester starts to mumble lines of lyric, lines of woe, to himself as if a fool, yet nothing real and nothing new; nothing comes. No one talks and no one speaks. The jester’s bells just barely squeak, protesting silence at...


Breeze of Redemption

On the hard ground she lay, A thing forgotten, left to decay, Her chest heaving up and down, Her heart beating, but she could hear no sound. A tear slid down ever so slowly, Never before had she felt so lonely. Doomed to fall within the folds of the earth, An embodiment of the clay she was before birth. She was alive, but barely hanging on, Inside she was hollow, her faith long gone, Tainted by the poison of ignorance, Her face long stripped of faith’s radiance. She knew...