Madness Manifested

Archive for July, 2021

Ritual 1 (a poem)

It is from this dark chamber that I call from within;
Reaching out to the void, let my workings begin;
With my ritual blade I carve a seal into the ground;
Carefully chosen elementals, incantations, and sigils are laid out;
Chalice in it’s proper place, charms and talismans in their proper state;
Deep and guttural tones as I invoke, she that is the Gate;
Striking flint above the tinder, I bring forth the first fire;
A reminder of our kinship is brought forth in my mind;
What was within is also now without, and so shall be my desire;
Each candle lit in perfect sequence, incense done in the same design;
Last syllables formed and a breath from the smoke held deep;
As I exhale, she has opened the Gate:

-T.C. Downey 2021


Lost in the Rain (an old poem)

Hot as the sun
You can make me
Come all undone
Want you to show me
The winds of the plains
I can feel you
How your thoughts are portrayed
The trees can taste you
Your soft veins
We are all lost in the rain
See all you want
Something’s still missing
What have we done?
I want to see
The dove and the raven become one
Blessed the dead
Damning the living
Standing at the gate
Streams are forgiving
Tasting the nectar of Roman goods
Sack clothe and twinning
Rough leather shelter feet
Crisp morn and sweet dew
An evening of luxury
Faint cause for yearning
Spilling of blood
Streams pass beneath my feet
Trolls feast the crimson mud
No shadows or windows
Old ghosts pass
As do the sands of an hour glass
Still lost in the rain
I can feel you all around me
How your love is inspired
We can all see you
What your heart desires
We’re all lost in the rain
I can feel you all around me
Like the drapes of the night
Look into you
Scrap the depths of your being
See you lost in the rain

-T.C. Downey 1995


Aftermath (a short poem)

In this place only earth, trees, and stars;
Beyond the hills things are more bizarre;
The Aethyr whispers in the silent night;
The Ancient Ones will come when the stars are right;
For it is THEM moving through all things;
Always there pulling on our strings;
Those they chose did more than survive;
A brave new world in which they thrive;
Warrior wizards of the killing kind;
Song-like prayer chants from the culling times;
Faces stained of war-paint mixed from mud, blood, and soot;
All who cross this warband are trampled underfoot;
From a distance the erie shadows cast;
Carcasses of monolithic dwellings of the past;
Haunting reminders of when we’d lost our way;
Such vile and dastardly creatures, that which we had became;
Still there were those among Us that waited for the day;
When the season was just right so they could play the sinister game;
A thousand moons have passed since;
Deep into the Aeon of the Crown Prince.