Island of The Seen




 Title artwork from “Honour Is Our Code, Death Is the Reward” by Talamyus. Click image to visit Deathbound Records.



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 Talamyus “Victory or Valhalla”





Seek and you shall find me
Will not need to look too hard
Speak of me and, when you do, please do so ever kindly
For you may never meet another in your life quite like me
Not the kind of soul to disregard
Not inclined to go with the majority, though honestly, please do feel free to offer my regards
They may own the monopoly on commonality but in the bonfire of the vanities they’re very first thing charred
Ashen remnants of an independence in decline
One hundred thousand reasons not to dare to care for rhyme
Going nowhere fast and in the pre-allotted time provided
Crops of wither cut down in their prime
Tossed like chopped liver to the scavengers of night
Hunted for their pelts or else be savaged by the blight
Bluntened by the force of trauma getting warmer all the time
Standing to deliver mute address, undressed of sight
Blind leading blindly in most orderly of fashions
Quarterly projections make no mention of the tension that upends what they deem senseless crimes of passion
Ashen remnants of a fifth amendment in decline
Moral order has it twisted
Sucker punches thrown ham-fisted
Trending views to pessimistic
Anything to make up the statistics
Hard for all us misfits to persist in skin so itchy and restrictive
For all of our ambition, we’re denied of definition
Held in contempt and inspected with dissent set to fermenting through expression of suspicion
I’m as mad as a hatter me
By my own damn admission
Not pretending to be something I am not
My thoughts they tend to scatter
Down the short road to perdition
Body tenses and this oddly tensile mind of mine then fogs
While my head’s a box of frogs however
Not au fait with hopping mad
Spent my childhood watching dad
Touching open wounds with calming hand
Crippled within life bereft of leniency granted for his trials
Howbeit, in his dreams he ran for miles and miles and miles
Never one time looked behind him
Never need to seek so far to find him
Never dared to dream I’d see a light intent on shielding me so blinding
Speaks to me infrequently and listens in indefatigably
I keep him in the one place I can always see his face
Feel his fingers brushing past my cheek to get my dimples blushing
Magic never ever faraway
Our faces make themselves each time they grow
All obstacles are merely stepping-stones
Laugh at them, tread on them, let them lead to something better
Maybe they will lead to some place home
No escape from difficulties
Faced and fought, we’ll never fall alone
Seek and you will find us
Will not need to look too hard
Keep us in the one place you can always see our faces
Glance our scars
Somewhere never ever faraway
And, one fine day
We shall rise up like phoenix steeped in flame
The greatest story never told
Is still here for the telling
One fine day, this Viking tribe of ours will stride in time with pride excelling
Each elixir begs to heal and bleed the quill of many
Teach the art of schooling with not one page confidential
Reach into our souls, bankroll the innermost potential
Warriors of dignity and valour
Breezing through the charcoal of the night
Towards the none too distant guiding lights
The greatest story ever told
Is told here

I wish not to be a king among men
Nothing quite that frightfully obscene
Truly, really, Crystalline clearly
To the everlong and most sincerely
Merely one of many kings and queens
Breaching highest tides towards the island of the seen





Richard Charles Stevens


Keeper of the Crimson Quill





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