So I have been writing short stories and poems for years now, and while I will probably put a few on here for you to read, I won’t be blogging my stories. For one, I like to write in the Vampire/fantasy genre, and even though I started writing them before all the vampire hype, there are WAY too many vampire books out there now. While I like my stories, I couldn’t bare someone to see my work and groan “not another vampire book!” We are all human.
So my poetry on the other hand I don’t mind scrutiny, comments, whatever. Most of them I wrote inspired by something happening in my life at the time, and others are just random bits that came to me in the middle of the night, on the train, etc.
So which one to start off with? It’s a hard decision, as I am terribly critical about my stuff, even though people who have read it said it’s good. Anyway it doesn’t really matter. I’ll pick one of my favorites to begin with. As you can see I wrote it a few years back.
The White Crow sits on the throne of his queen
He sees for her what cannot be seen
Their bond is one of unfathomable depth
Which can only be broken with either ones death
A cursed cloth of black on her eyes she is bound
So he speaks in her mind in a way profound
He will tell her the difference between truth and lies
And as his Queen sleeps the White Crow flies
White Crow flies and surveys his Queens lands
From the mountain tops to the golden sands
From the land in the south through the sleet and snow
To the land in the north where the summer blooms grow
He will fly through the day until the night fall
And through his eyes his Queen can see all
He has no wish for his life to end
He would fly on forever for his beautiful friend
But time as they say, it does go on
White crow and his beloved are now long gone
Though to this day when wind lashes the skies
You will faintly hear the White Crows cries
©Copyright SWestlake 2007