Tag: poetry

  • A Girl Named Salem

    By Jason Zapata What did I do to become so feared and maligned A guiltless woman puritanical men apprehended Was I really so threatening to Christendom’s kind

  • I, Dracula: Part Two

    I, Dracula: Part Two

    By Jason Zapata I ruthlessly sought to end Wallachia’s state of unrest By enslaving the Boyars who could not escape guilt Traitors who labored until Poenari’s walls were rebuilt Because they dared to aid the Ottomans in their conquest Those slaves who survived were impaled on my behest On the shores of the Raul Roameni…

  • I, Dracula: Part One

    I, Dracula: Part One

    By: Jason Zapata By the Order of The Dragon I was knighted To defend Wallachia and faithfully support His holiness Pope Pius II’s crusade to thwart The Turks who left Constantinople blighted Crescent moons marked that land as benighted Many prayed for the fall of the Ottoman Court I never possessed a tongue for such…

  • My Redeemer

    By: Jason Zapata What Hell I have dragged her through. This devoted conscience bound in flesh. Rescuing me from fires of fault and flaw, The flames of my failures sear her. Irrationally she remains by my side still. Faithful in her belief I will someday honor All the promises I have yet to fulfill. I…

  • Abdul Alhazred

    Abdul Alhazred

    By: Jason Zapata As a man in Sana’a I heard their voices The inhuman dialect flooded my mind With images of a vast nameless city Lying in the wastes of Roba El Khaliyeh

  • Nothing Can Be Explained

    By: Jason Zapata The past unremittingly seeks dominion over me. A struggle for sovereignty taking place behind, The haunted windows that are my troubled eyes. Bygone battles and conflict play out in my mind, Locking swords against what I believe in now. But which blade will shatter under the strain? There is no answer to…

  • All These Words

    By Jason Zapata Another would-be suitor is quick to depart Due to false stewardship of your heart I hate seeing this kingdom in neglect When it deserves only honor and respect Don’t be accustomed to frauds and liars

  • Wheat Field with Crows

    Wheat Field with Crows

    By Jason Zapata I was the one to find you. You were in the very field you painted. The wind sighed. The wheat swayed. You lay still.