THE DARK RIDER

THE DARK RIDER

A cold harsh wind blew eerily
Whiplash cracked the limbs of trees
On this moonlit night ‘Old Hallows Eve’
From an endless abyss death regurgitates
And creatures of the twilight now arise
Tortured restless spirits possessed by thirst

A nightmare wraith upon the prowl
What could possibly be any worse
Feasting upon flesh in frenzied appetite
Justified on this night their evil deeds
Naive innocence must pay the fee
RIP – All those caught up in the fray
For a great shadow of darkness now at play

I am the rider of those scenarios stark
A blackness that strikes fear into the very heart
Upon a cold steed I bring the dark
Master of reigns o’er most hooven horror
Laying claim to all souls whom trespass
The henchman of hades horrific indeed
Upon the soil scarred ‘Neath this trail does bleed
A quota of flesh for the hounds of hell to feast

a collaboration by David Slater and Lemmy Rushmore
illustration by Niall Parkinson

CRAWL

I want not your council

and I seek not your aid

rather fade on to naught

in this spot where I’ve laid

–

all my dues I have paid

and so loyal I’ve stayed

yet betrayed I have been

by these things that invade

–

like to melt down within

just dissolve on away

take a trip on to gone

and it’s there I would stay

–

so I need not your help

and that pity you keep

just continue that fight

while forever I sleep

–

think I’ll push on myself

maybe finish my hole

and then in I shall crawl

just remains of a soul….

–

Poetry by Lemmy Rushmore  –  Illustration by Niall Parkinson

LACUNA ECHO

crumpled corpse that continues
the lifeless carcass of past
just the victim that fell
to those things he’d amassed
–
just the roaming reminder
a vacant dweller of shades
and retreated I have
to where darkness pervades
–
the dispersal successful
the disbanding completed
but what be the use
only good I’ve deleted
–
agitations still present
and all disruptions persist
and among densest haze
I am left to exist
–
externally overcrowded
yet internally alone
behind these walls I have built
I’m just as dead as their stone….

–

Poetry by Lemmy Rushmore – Illustration by Niall Parkinson

ALMOST…

why stumble through

with point long lost

why waste one’s time

and will exhaust

–

why turn blind eye

or deafened ear

when sane mind screams

just disappear

–

why even try

with naught to gain

when no good comes

‘mongst all the pain

–

when each step forth

leads back to hear

why not just grasp

that answer clear

–

when better dies

and worse remains

why not cut ties

to bitter strains

–

what else to do

but call it quits

when your worst foe

beside you sits….

–

Poetry by Lemmy Rushmore  – Illustration by Niall Parkinson

NOBODY HEARS … (nemo ante mortem beatus)

if it would help me I’d scream

but no good would it do

it’s like grief’s seed was sown

and up it has grew

–

to bone it has gnawed

and more it keeps taking

seems on I shall be

partaking in aching

–

surrounded I am

and with no way around

so it looks as though

it is here I have drowned

–

those reasons aren’t rising

and all looks so bleak

not a need still remains

for trying to speak

–

from here in these depths

couldn’t muster the breath

and what be the point

when you’re lying with death

–

seems to it I’m chained

just it’s lowliest slave

–

besides…

–

nobody hears

from here in the grave….

–

Poetry by Lemmy Rushmore – Illustration by Niall Parkinson

Triumph rarely gleams, within its opaque and muddy orbs
one of the one struggles to detach, but is readily absorbed
other of the one yearns for love, but is forbidden to diverge
but both dance a conjoin eternal, every feeling to submerge
–
words and illustration by Niall Parkinson

SHROUD OF DOUBT

those vital but unfathomable stains
reflection of truths conflicting pains
seems I have upon me draped about
my own and bleeding shroud of doubt
–
words and illustration by Niall Parkinson

AN ANSWERED PRAYER

as I lay me down to sleep

I pray my end I’ll finally reap

I hope to die before I wake

so there’s no more I’ll have to take

–

the days the foes I fail to beat

equipped they are for my defeat

no mercy shown to weary soul

instead a hill or deeper hole

–

such tortures grand all lent with ease

as deaf they’ve been to all my pleas

a brutal wrath seems each would bring

and none dare go ‘fore me they sting

–

too much they’ve been, too much they’ll be

and though they’ll leave it’s more I’ll see

I’m only one ‘gainst many they

already broke yet rough they play

–

my will they’ve claimed with all the rest

till just to be became a quest

with fullest worth I’d stand and fight

till naught remained but sorry plight

–

these odds too great, my chances slim

where darkness reigns and all is dim

the point long lost, the reasons none

until with this I know I’m done

–

so as I lay me down to sleep

I pray my end I’ll finally reap

I hope to die before I wake

so there’s no more I’ll have to take….

–

Poetry by Lemmy Rushmore  –  Illustration by Niall Parkinson

WOUNDS

please do not touch me

I’m afraid I might break

left battered by this

I’ve had all I can take

–

beaten to breaking

I’ve been pounded to dust

I’d like to quit now

but it’s go on I must

–

fragile, I know it

with your words please use care

my fill I have had

and it’s all I can bear

–

no use to this place

just fragmented remains

shards of a past me

end results of the stains

–

rickety remnants

left to this feeble heap

my all I have sown

but demise I shall reap….

–

Poetry by Lemmy Rushmore  –  Illustration by Niall Parkinson

MINIONS

protection it seemed

somehow failed to exist

as gather they would

as I failed to resist

–

some came of free will

and some I collected

but each one and all

in some way affected

–

it’s me they’d possess

till another I’d be

condemning a soul

I guess chose to agree

–

selected I was

and by them infected

till me they’d become

and I, but directed

–

so now I’ll exhale

all these demons that dwell

take care not to near

as it’s them I expel….

–

Poetry by Lemmy Rushmore  – Illustration by Niall Parkinson