Checkmate

Checkmate

The metronome heartbeats of a pirate knave,
the ticking soft, as his life fades.

He passes from the world as his life is sacrificed,
a victim of the intrigues of this wooden court.

His body unceremoniously dumped over the side,
the crunching of gears the only salute to his passing.

A knife to the throat and the battle is rejoined,
puppet pawns fighting a war for reasons unknown.

A swig of Mothers’ Ruin is all it takes,
to turn man into animal and make an enemy from a friend.

For Queen and country we all strive,
a civil war on the open seas.

Leaving naught but steam in the air and not a body alive.

The Little Tree - Poem

I have a load of my old work gathering goblins on my hard drive that I thought I would share with everyone. Some of you will most likely have read some of this stuff before but for those of you who have not I can only appologise :D Today is a poem about a slightly carnivorous tree.

The Little Tree

I am the little tree

that sits in your garden

I am the little tree

that watches your life pass

Pardon me for interjecting

but I feel I must help you

Remember when the gerbil died

and you gave him unto me

my roots sucked at his body

and made use of his flesh

vanishing him from the world

Why not let me do this again,

while your wife is still fresh.

I will suck and drink until she is dry

and let my worm friends take the rest.