My Gaze in Spectral

My Gaze in Spectral 

In the darkness it dwells
The visions and spells
Cast upon my gaze
That put my head in this daze

Look there is the spectral past
Shadows laid by the gleaming cast
Sight deceiving, my mind believing
Out in that bleakness, a thieving.

Beyond the layered mast
That I have laid in thus past
I bear down my soul
These images have taken their toll.

11/20/21 – Andy McRae

Meander in the Snow

Meander in the Snow

meander down, snow inbound, path unplowed, mind enshroud.
gone are the leaves, the sun sets early over the eaves,
wind swept in cold air, and in my head the echoing memories blare.
crunch of frozen, wet foliage underfoot, snow covers all the trees past the roots,
loving the sight of my breath before my eyes, as I am crippled by those miserable cries.
dusk settles in over the folly, the world crows, uneasily in its new melancholy,
walking in past footsteps through the dimlit, retrace my pitiful mistakes that I did commit.
blinded by the night, tripping over snow bites, and there I saw a pale winter wight.
come to claim my frozen heart, I had it in my hands, with my organ I did part,
and that sprite took me out of the dark, and from there on a journey I did embark.

12/8/21 – Andy McRae

Lost in a Day

Lost in a Day

morning to morning
night to night
the blending of days has become
to me a frightful hallucination 

when there is no way to begin
nor end in sight
life becomes grim
the world around me grows drear 

a cage of insanity bars around
my mind, how can I find
a way from this cell, from this hell
hell indeed, bound I concede 

given up, given in,
from this world of circles 
I cannot win 

lost in a day
which, I cannot say

10/29/21 – Andy McRae

Unable

Thorn Covered Heart – Andy
Unable

My heart is lost
In places worn
Pieces torn
By time’s thorns

Love comes uneasy
To one so unsettled
By an alien thought
Yet so readily bought

Time and time unfold
Different ways I hurl
Myself into tragedy and pain,
neglected into infamy

Blood dribbles down my back
The words on this book black
The victims decidedly fine?
Yet mine, the line, oh my mind
It is a crack past the edge
Is it their images bathed
In my self loathed wine
Making all seem fine
In my mind, when I am not.

12/5/21 – Andy McRae
1st Stanza – Unable