Smite Me, Oh Dark One

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Oh Pestilence! Oh Plague! Oh Death, -bring them all! Bring them all? YOU DO! Is that daylight on horizon now? Nature cannot desert me, no, not now! A tribute to my favorite poet. Edgar Allen Poe. Jack Oct Out of In. I sing our song that cadenced whisper I'm afraid to say our song is over My exertion to turn your sky bright has run thin So I give in, a silent sin in the wind From within I fall out instead of in Out of love with you so soon on this night It's not beacause of your fright We never fit quite right And that's alright I'm not your only source of light Nor your fleeting running knight You have to fight to see the light Now I give you smite I'm so sorry But this is not permanent blight Please stay safe tonight Despite my bite C.

Sam Sep Decline to comet. While satellites come close and leave, whole moons and the swirling dust of reflective obeyers, it arrives from distance.

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Running a course through weight from a pencil-thin horizon brow, it might have streaked across darkness. With the dead shines behind, washed clean in a trail of wild flame and then fallen, bolide broken into cascade. Or rising to collide, only skim the surface. Ruffle the sheets of land, wrinkle fertile leas and parched sands.

No, to strike full and shudder the core and extinguish light and life. With unswerving smite. From underestimated range and unmeasured haste, a peacock tail drags far behind. Each one diamond dolefully eyed. Is this eccentric orbit the only the path seen? Fastened to your celestial belt and looped in an endless trajectory. TerryD'ArcyRyan Jul 7.

J Nightingale Jul 6. Sacred Love. I am the shimmering angel within the deep abyss But whoever would sin against you I shall smite the enemies for they are the demons within the abyss They shall burn with such divine light For the blinding light comes from within The only power in the world that can stop these demons. Love is as sacred as god Love is what makes us run Love inspires bravery, heroism for the ones they love Love hurts as deep as the abyss But with love comes hope And hope will brighten the day for all And so shall the light be freed from the entangling darkness.

Sarah Key Dec We will crush the stalks of your rage. How high can you jump for white private ledges? Cunning Linguist Jul Julian Jul An American Prayer Two. The manger of proctored stars calls us home tonight and home forever. Life in quaked timorous stumbles suddenly no longer so fitfully absurd. The quixotic plundered of pirates and emperors in direct emulation of some crooned pastiche of whittled integrity, surges above any encased blurb and any vain testament to a pyramid rigid in destiny and ragged in desultory and sturdy sincerity Multiplying the ineffable by the division of arable divorced from edible is too creative to be eaten as pabulum when sparks curdle flickered moonlight crimson and that become golden only to the last laugh of ennobled ragamuffins Frankly the desert of melliferous gorillas abetting the lark of a heavily vetted camarilla engaged in the sinecure of a rigged wall on a main street to block the tall from the lame bleat.

Diamond lightning in pristine skies escorts the telegraphic totems of riddled modems from to and suddenly all venerable personages converge on a teeming scene of a union unified by a universal dream.

SMITE: Battleground of the Gods

To become everything and yet nothing and out of light and darkness to become a beatific beam. Ganesha Michael Shapiro Nov Yenson Aug DEW Mar The Greatest Story Untold The waves undulated as if they were the backs of wriggling worms The sky shed tears as if a angels wept for the death of hope black clouds roiled, sparking with fury casting lightning down upon the mire but below, upon the sea, a miracle was set to transpire. A boat rushed down and over the waves Back and forth, a juggler's ball tossed and turned it appeared to be.

Yet, despite the malice, and the seething spite of the sea, the boat was safe snug as can be. And in this boat was a silent baby his eyes stared out into the turmoil he did not understand the frustrations of the elements how they wished to smite him where he lay. Despite the twisting of the boat he did not roll, nor did water coat his soft cheeks, his baby blanket he passed on into sleep, into dream he went. He awoke to battles raging about him the crashing of thunder was the desolation of a mountain the world knew war for the first time deaths in the billions, no pasture without crime.

He stood as a man with bearded face skin like the earth armor embraced. He realized he held a mighty weapon it gleamed in his hands power coursed through his veins down to his soul up to the heavens! A beacon of light he seemed to be but heir to destruction he truly was. He did not know what power does to the feint of heart to the well-intentioned He struck the ground amidst the battle the whole Earth shook, oh, the chattering teeth!

The mountains lumbered to form again as if by the shovels of skyward giants! The battle paused for the barest of moments the awe was palpable like a kingly feast but the people's hearts hadn't forgotten the pain their hate surged up, like volcanic bile despite their peace present for a while the massacres began again in earnest perhaps more so than before his deed. No one knew the power he wielded. He still had hope, he could do something! But what greater act was there than mending mountains? His heart was up to good, but his mind couldn't ground him.

Am I not their savior?

Smite Me, Oh Mighty Smiter

The battle ceased in an instant. Each person stared in utter disbelief. By what power had this happened? It was said that mountains climbed back into place, but what could summon loved ones, even from the grave! The fighting ceased despite their hatred, and the stories magnified in flavor. Many who were hungry for peace from the storm of violence fed upon the hearts of those in doubt they claimed they knew who stopped the battle they hoped to mobilize a peace effort. He gathered these hopeful souls banded them together so their efforts became tenfold! Soon enough, the stories crept across the lands across the seas and underground.

For once, hope had purchased ground, but hate, when cloistered, beaten back, starved, becomes ever more malevolent, ever more conniving. He did not call his people an army, he called them the Samaritan Initiative.

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They did not fight their war with weapons of battle, they fought with hands that mend and bind, they saved the sick and the dying, they uplifted the oppressed and those denying. As time passed, his efforts grew, but someone used his deeds as currency, mobilized the scandalous, the warmongering, someone hated he who mended the broken Someone plotted his demise. He led his Samaritans across the world each place they touched was left whole again and though war still did reign, rotting and true, he did not tire to end the end.

A new beginning he hoped to create, but whispers that he was a fraud began to sate the ears of those whose purpose it is to doubt peace, they sowed the malice back into the healing wounds soon enough, his power began to abate, therefore, rumors seemed to be true. He grew restless when he was barred from homesteads barred from cities, even countries!

Somehow these echoes of forgotten civilization rose only to defy him and he smelled someone's stench in the air. His weapon yearned for someone's death. For once, it did not wish to mend, but break, and he felt spiteful all the more. All the adoration he had garnered had blinded him from his true purpose. The story Steve has written was original and amusing and I truly hope to see more work of this nature from him. It's free! Give it a read and enjoy. Kelly Stanaway reviewed on on Sep.

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  8. If it's not, please let me know. Kristina starzz reviewed on on Aug. Definatly recommend it.

    Smite Me, O Mighty Smiter!

    Kelly Stanaway reviewed on on Aug. This is an incredibly delightful story. Alan Face reviewed on on Aug. I can only agree with Steve Challis's review - this is a very tasty morsel, indeed! Steve Challis reviewed on on Aug. An excellent but unusual story. Very well written. You make it rain. You hear me? You make it rain! A deo iusto? A deo scito? Cruciatus in crucem! Tuus in terra servus, nuntius fui; officium perfeci. Eas in crucem!

    If God truly inflicts vengeful acts of pain and suffering upon its creations as a sort of temper tantrum in order to elicit a response, then bring it on. Nunc per ludum, [2] Dorsum nudum, [3] Fero tui sceleris. Hac in hora, [5] Sine mora, [6] Corde pulsum tangite!

    Bible, King James Version

    If I'm gay hey, God, strike me dead! Just a mile or so away, Is my dearest friend in the world.

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    He wears the blue and I the grey, And God, it hurts me so. The last time we were together, I grabbed his hand and I pledged: "If I ever draw my sword on you, May the good Lord strike me dead! Perchick: Money is the world's curse.

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    Tevye his face to the sky : May the Lord smite me with it! And may I never recover! Frog: "Good job, God! Granting self-awareness to something that lives in the plumbing!