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These are poetry drafts. I consider all my poetry in a constant state of drafting, some with revision ongoing, others merely gathering dust. Some have been published but will still be considered drafts.

N.B. When these posts were imported I noticed some of my reblogs also got pulled in. It should be ovious from the contents that they are reblogs from other writers. I am in the process of removing those posts.

The Purge

By - 
 I vowed to steal
 A single word
 From a page
 In a script
 Long forgotten,

 Left on a shelf in the
 Darkest of convents
 Covered in cobwebs
 Enchanted by hexe,
 The book of eld
 Summoned me

 I vowed to scatter its
 Ashes before me as
 I prayed for her 
 blessings –
 
 Oh  My Lady, Hear me!
 
 My precious Lady of
 The Moon gather
 Accept my offering of
 A single word scorched,

 Once bred by sorcery
 Magic old as the heavens
 This word is now – obsolete
 
 I vowed to continue the
 Mission of purging until
 Every single word had
 
 Ceased,
  
 Until every poet
 In the land stood erect
 Silently wishing 
 They had taken
 Better care of
 
 Their legacy

The Purge

By - 
 I vowed to steal
 A single word
 From a page
 In a script
 Long forgotten,

 Left on a shelf in the
 Darkest of convents
 Covered in cobwebs
 Enchanted by hexe,
 The book of eld
 Summoned me

 I vowed to scatter its
 Ashes before me as
 I prayed for her 
 blessings –
 
 Oh  My Lady, Hear me!
 
 My precious Lady of
 The Moon gather
 Accept my offering of
 A single word scorched,

 Once bred by sorcery
 Magic old as the heavens
 This word is now – obsolete
 
 I vowed to continue the
 Mission of purging until
 Every single word had
 
 Ceased,
  
 Until every poet
 In the land stood erect
 Silently wishing 
 They had taken
 Better care of
 
 Their legacy

Copyright © 2021 @behind-the-veil-of-sanity / Hayden Veil

Windswept

By - 
 I entered the night oven, the carriage to
 Another place; towards the light of
 Day, I remarked at the flickering of 
 Thought abandonment
 
 A personal hell amidst clean sheets
  I found the darkness in turmoil,
 The feline friends without, fighting for
  A mouse or otherwise
 
 Left naked and alone in the land of 
 Nev Yn I rose to find a fire ablaze,
 A star of the lost thought of night 
 Descended
 
 She only gave her mother's name
 Windswept – as the angel ascended
 My sacred soul in tow, across the
 Heavens
 
 Clutching the void I dreamt of peace &
 Her full understanding, wishing days of 
 Sorrow were finally behind me, alas,
 No divine revelation unfolded
 
 Closer and closer I fought an urge to
 Scream, then wither and detach from
 The grasp l had never really held in 
 Earnest
 
 Without a thought of consequence
 I let go and her darkness embraced 
 The physical embodiment of hope,
 The final days of being – done

Untitled (10907)

By -

Windswept

I entered the night oven, the carriage to
Another place; towards the light of
Day, I remarked at the flickering of
Thought abandonment

A personal hell amidst clean sheets
I found the darkness in turmoil,
The feline friends without, fighting for
A mouse or otherwise

Left naked and alone in the land of
Nev Yn I rose to find a fire ablaze,
A star of the lost thought of night
Descended

She only gave her mother’s name
Windswept – as the angel ascended
My sacred soul in tow, across the
Heavens

Clutching the void I dreamt of peace &
Her full understanding, wishing days of
Sorrow were finally behind me, alas,
No divine revelation unfolded

Closer and closer I fought an urge to
Scream, then wither and detach from
The grasp l had never really held in
Earnest

Without a thought of consequence
I let go and her darkness embraced
The physical embodiment of hope,
The final days of being – done

Copyright © 2021 @behind-the-veil-of-sanity / Hayden Veil

Innocence Protruding

By - 
The void inside my head
Echoes the barren land before me,
I stroll aimlessly downwards
Along misty paths obscured,
Towards the Shadowlands of
Satisfaction.

Directionless, one foot then
The other I find my way through
Mazes of nothingness.
Slowly raising a single eyebrow, a
Sign of surviving my two-pronged
Crown.

I raise my glass for pleasure
Drink to keep myself afloat,
Ponder without grandiose pleasure
I think to keep otherness without
As I find my infecund throat
Forsaken

I grind their pills to powder
The mortal pestle slowly stirring
In a mortar of my scull devised,
Failed and by torment raised
Left to my own devices here
I rise, only to tumble again

I snort the flower of every
Colour combined, the
Winter calls me to the
Child unborn, to the
Innocence –

                                                             Protruding

Untitled (10908)

By -

Innocence Protruding

The void inside my head
Echoes the barren land before me,
I stroll aimlessly downwards
Along misty paths obscured,
Towards the Shadowlands of
Satisfaction.

Directionless, one foot then
The other I find my way through
Mazes of nothingness.
Slowly raising a single eyebrow, a
Sign of surviving my two-pronged
Crown.

I raise my glass for pleasure
Drink to keep myself afloat,
Ponder without grandiose pleasure
I think to keep otherness without
As I find my infecund throat
Forsaken

I grind their pills to powder
The mortal pestle slowly stirring
In a mortar of my scull devised,
Failed and by torment raised
Left to my own devices here
I rise, only to tumble again

I snort the flower of every
Colour combined, the
Winter calls me to the
Child unborn, to the
Innocence –

Protruding

Copyright © 2021 @behind-the-veil-of-sanity / Hayden Veil

Each and Every Morning

By - 
 Each and every accursed morning
 You give me the word of day, as if
 I would know what to do with it,
 Supposedly expect some release
 From this recurring revelation of
 Grandiosity

 Each and every blasted morning
 You whack me, urge me to transition
 From sleep to delusions of grandeur,
 Poking and prodding my vernacular
 mind as you observe the flaws in my
 Linguistical appropriations

 Each and every cursed morning
 I run towards the empty page
 Only to find no tools to tell with
 So the search for a suitable marker
 Commences,  the hunger
 Growing inside
 
 Each and every damned morning
 The quest for pens, pencils or a
 Goose neck to wring for a single
 Quill ends with empty hands and
 Unmanicured nails, ready to scar
 The arms of innocence
 
 Each and every execrable morning
 The realisation of inadequacy
 Presents itself as thus, the
 Desireless days of the present
 Overshadowing the glory days
 Long passed

Untitled (10909)

By -

Each and Every Morning

Each and every accursed morning
You give me the word of day, as if
I would know what to do with it,
Supposedly expect some release
From this recurring revelation of
Grandiosity

Each and every blasted morning
You whack me, urge me to transition
From sleep to delusions of grandeur,
Poking and prodding my vernacular
mind as you observe the flaws in my
Linguistical appropriations

Each and every cursed morning
I run towards the empty page
Only to find no tools to tell with
So the search for a suitable marker
Commences, the hunger
Growing inside

Each and every damned morning
The quest for pens, pencils or a
Goose neck to wring for a single
Quill ends with empty hands and
Unmanicured nails, ready to scar
The arms of innocence

Each and every execrable morning
The realisation of inadequacy
Presents itself as thus, the
Desireless days of the present
Overshadowing the glory days
Long passed

Copyright © 2021 @behind-the-veil-of-sanity / Hayden Veil

Winds of Change

By - 
The autumnal Aeolian laughed in
His face, affirming the wind of
change in his particular case –
Utterly inapplicable

Undeserving – he pondered on
The compulsion for change, on the
Longing for a lone word to spread,
To smear across the empty page
Of an unsullied – uncovered –
Pamphlet

The springing Scirocco whispered
Words of their unforgiving disapproval,
Words of vanity and passages of
Pretentiousness – Oh Pooh

Unnerving – he gobbled another
Handful of God-given goodies then
Slaked his thirst; the goblet
Brimmed with the stale waters of
His long abandoned well

The summer Squall cried for
Compassion,  urged for his untold
Words to be revealed, to revel in
Their freedom from his phobia of –
All things

Unwatched – his handsome features
Described in yesteryears by others thus,
Reflections in mirrors distorted by
Greed, and misunderstood for –
Wanting

The winter Wuther dull and dreary,
A roaring request to awaken,
Unheard and unheeded
A final call to arms –
Averted

Unrelenting – the closing of doors,
Like an avoidance of life apparent,
Like a jab of juice unfilled,
A desire for anything –
Wanted

A perennial draught of guilt and
Shame, always worn on sleeves
Of silk, presented yet so rarely
Revealed, most precious though
When served in
Anger

Untitled (10910)

By -

Winds of Change

The autumnal Aeolian laughed in
His face, affirming the wind of
change in his particular case –
Utterly inapplicable

Undeserving – he pondered on
The compulsion for change, on the
Longing for a lone word to spread,
To smear across the empty page
Of an unsullied – uncovered –
Pamphlet

The springing Scirocco whispered
Words of their unforgiving disapproval,
Words of vanity and passages of
Pretentiousness – Oh Pooh

Unnerving – he gobbled another
Handful of God-given goodies then
Slaked his thirst; the goblet
Brimmed with the stale waters of
His long abandoned well

The summer Squall cried for
Compassion, urged for his untold
Words to be revealed, to revel in
Their freedom from his phobia of –
All things

Unwatched – his handsome features
Described in yesteryears by others thus,
Reflections in mirrors distorted by
Greed, and misunderstood for –
Wanting

The winter Wuther dull and dreary,
A roaring request to awaken,
Unheard and unheeded
A final call to arms –
Averted

Unrelenting – the closing of doors,
Like an avoidance of life apparent,
Like a jab of juice unfilled,
A desire for anything –
Wanted

A perennial draught of guilt and
Shame, always worn on sleeves
Of silk, presented yet so rarely
Revealed, most precious though
When served in
Anger

Copyright © 2021 @behind-the-veil-of-sanity / Hayden Veil

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