The Hunt

In hunger wanting

Waiting with Essence shrilling

Percussions of time falling

As the rhythms were shaken

Each step renewed

Beating the time left to brood

A victim traversing upon-

This life of glass

Living-time does pass

The mark unblemished

For no trivial skirmish

Is now all faded

With one less existence

-Rhia, 11/2018

The Solemn Making

The moment swift

With darkness quaking

Steps upon a virgin earth, shaking

Draw quickly upon

This breath, never die –

In menace, be not waking

For anew, the chalice is filled again

Another solemn rise

To a new earth-making


The Red Ocean

Are we mortal forever?

Or immortal only for now?

Are we made to be broken-

When red covers us together

Red, for what we are

Red, immortal for now

An ocean runs forever

The ocean, a mortal

The ocean, red

The ocean – red – and made to be broken

Covering us is this ocean – red, mortal, and beautifully broken


The Only One

Am I the only one here?

Are my feet the only two to stand upon this earthen floor?

Do I stand alone only hoping for something beyond my grasp?

I am the only one. The only one. The only one.

Dare I comfort myself with the fleeting and false hope of another?

No, for I am the only one.

The only one.



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