I am a collector of lost souls,
the dejected, the anguished, the torn,
unknowingly they call me to them,
beacons in the dark, silvered sorrow
I cradle them in the eye of Hell,
in which they forever stagger,
I wrap them in the warmth of truth,
a light I would hardly know,
I take and sew together
the scraps of their tattered souls,
the sullen and the wronged,
broken hearted and the dying,
I take their hands and lead them through
Hell, to murky promises of light
then leave them to continue alone,
fighting up the landslide
of the path toward the sun,
and I watch as they struggle,
clambering over the bones of the fallen,
and I
Sleep, that illusive little death,
that slips in like a drug and takes
conscious in a somber war,
gently pressuring the blood
into a more relaxed flow,
the brain into an open state
of meandering thought and foggy image,
to softly drift in black waters,
the calm of the river Lethe,
alone, peaceful, returning
to a state of union with universal all,
losing the self to God conscious,
releasing individuality
and becoming transient,
in the peace of night all return
to that from which we began,
that light should become evil,
waking reluctant,
no fate more violent than to be pulled,
from that most natural state,
in which life and
I am a collector of lost souls,
the dejected, the anguished, the torn,
unknowingly they call me to them,
beacons in the dark, silvered sorrow
I cradle them in the eye of Hell,
in which they forever stagger,
I wrap them in the warmth of truth,
a light I would hardly know,
I take and sew together
the scraps of their tattered souls,
the sullen and the wronged,
broken hearted and the dying,
I take their hands and lead them through
Hell, to murky promises of light
then leave them to continue alone,
fighting up the landslide
of the path toward the sun,
and I watch as they struggle,
clambering over the bones of the fallen,
and I
Sleep, that illusive little death,
that slips in like a drug and takes
conscious in a somber war,
gently pressuring the blood
into a more relaxed flow,
the brain into an open state
of meandering thought and foggy image,
to softly drift in black waters,
the calm of the river Lethe,
alone, peaceful, returning
to a state of union with universal all,
losing the self to God conscious,
releasing individuality
and becoming transient,
in the peace of night all return
to that from which we began,
that light should become evil,
waking reluctant,
no fate more violent than to be pulled,
from that most natural state,
in which life and
I am a storyteller through written word, photographs, and drawings. I am also a Shaman of Lakota and Celtic traditions, a practitioner of Chinese Medicine and martial arts, a hermit, and the proud owner of an invisible tail.
Current Residence: my body Favourite photographer: Leonard Nimoy Favourite style of art: Varies by mood Favourite cartoon character: Pluto, love to draw him.
Favourite Visual Artist
Ruth Thompson and Goldenwolf
Favourite Movies
Fearless
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Loreena McKennit
Favourite Writers
Paulo Coelho
Favourite Games
Majiang
Tools of the Trade
laptop, blank paper, sharp pencils, camera. Those are the essentials.
Other Interests
Writing, wolves, Shamanism, drawing, photography, being outside, mythology, etc.
Friends of mine have been on DA for years, but I for some reason just now made the spontaneous decision to join. Seems fairly awesome so far, looking forward to uploading better resolution pictures when I have access to my laptop.
-Shadow