Demon Cloud

I saw it
Up in the sky.
An aerial blanket
Of ominous purple
Looming violently
Above me. Perhaps
It's there to
Shield
The angels from
Some underworldly
Joys...
Perhaps He wants
Us to witness His
Wrath, but He is
Weak now, He
Is old, and
Wrath is but a
Cough and a
Feigned swipe
Of claws in the
Face of its
Former self.

Eternal Life

I have heard the cry of a ghost in song,
His languish splayed before me, his guitar and voice
Upon my eager ears, his somnolent touch
Raps on my soul, as if to be invited in
And nestle close with Sir Drake and the victory rose,
All awash in sweet, undying, mercurial
Peace, there within my heart
They wrestle to be my cantor
To lead me Into sublimity, into peace
Where I shall surely find some tranquility
Amongst Elysian notes and strums
From a godly Telecaster I know well
The champion Mr. Buckley cries out
His lost Grace from across the mortal void.