Midian
Mal's poetry Welcome to midian, mortal being. Here I split my soul in half, to let the stellar ichor trickle. You will find here my poetry, mostly about nature, darkness and feeling of loss. Some of the poems are quite gruesome, so stay aware. Be safe and enjoy the weaved word.
by Mal

we moved through the fair
of buried hourglasses and empty trees
dead leaves rustled under my feet
tendrils of rot sliding between us

you told me that you will never die
squeezing the dark oath from my heart
and order, yet not unlike a promise
when I took you into a fog made of ashes

drown in my arms like in black water
your blinding light filling the night’s ravenous maw
we moved through the fair
of broken graveyards and wings of midnight

a pledge of my loyalty hanging over us
when your kisses send shivers down the earth


by Mal

there will be no nights that eat my soul
quenching its hunger with my lust for life
there will be no winters buring my flesh under white glitter
under pale sky that burns like a thousand suns
there will be no grass entering my veins
children of the woods, predators from rich soil
there will be no bird eyes reflecting my life in the eternal ponds
buttons and cotton, birds made of straws

there will be no secret gardens
no marble goddesses awaiting my wake

if these eyes stay closed
and sewn with my fears
if these mouth stay shut
to choke on rotten blood


by Mal

you are a fool
if you thought you can break me in half
pumping black blood into my veins
covering me in kerosene feathers

you are a fool
if you wanted to use the kindness
which you mistook for vulnerability
weakness of a soul

you’re dancing in your own puppet show
with dolls as your audience
their limbs soaked in blood
their stares empty and hollow

you are a vampire tearing your own vein
drowning in your own illusions

I was a fool
but here I uncover the sun


by Mal

my shadow grows during the night
oblivious to light, oblivious to darkness
its fangs sharp like glittering crystals
its claws
in me
in my tendons
in my blood

my shadow flickers – a blackest sun on the empty sky
violent companion among bleeding curses
its will breaking the dam of my rage
its hunger
in me
deeper, deeper
in the core

we are one, me and the wolf
me and the blade made of obsidian
a black hole behind my eyes


by Mal

the lilacs trapped me inside their gowns
orchid in place of heart
lips shut with hellebores

my marble eyes bleed with rain
stone angel’s breath
never exhaled – a trapped wind

I am made of forgotten autumns
and dead winter days
of mournful leaves calling the fallen summer
of crying moons, of wounded twilights


by Mal

many times – I danced on those graves
my feet waking up the undead souls
they call me, ah they call me
alluring sirens from a six feet under

a cat’s eyes – a cat’s heart
grimalkin of the cursed grounds
the tombstones kneel before me
a faery made of vines
a untamed spirit in the marble prison


by Mal

my stone gown fakes gauze
dim colors of dull indifference
filling my room with resignation

the light doesn’t get here
my marble sleeves pull me down
down down under the black water

unlighted colors of desperation
pebbles instead of fairy dust

let me out of it


by Mal

she is a wind bound with shackles
trapped in the darkest winter
her crystals dimmed by the dust
her shine in mud and dirt and cinders

she is a bird with cut wings
a breathe that never left the mouth
tangled in obsidian threads
covered with stone-heavy moths

one day, her wings will grow the feathers
to lift her into the night that glitters
a soul without a body
a spirit without a burden


by Mal

We are the wolves of the dark forests, the hunters of the cold moon
We fall asleep on the beds of moss and roots, lost travelers from another world
The stars captivate us with silvery fire, when we search for each other

Finding only dust and restlessly tracking blood

Where you were, my path will follow

Even if I will never feel your scent; will find myself in the maze filled with traps

Cruel thorns of remembrance, rosemary binds of forgotten life

Here… now…
The wolf’s heart is ice-bound
Darkness impenetrable in the corners of her soul…


by Mal

she weaved the desert throne
with the burning grains of sand
vines and ropes made of glass
melting into obscure forms
embracing her like cocoon
kissing her with flaming lips

she placed the desert crown
on her snow-white forehead
it marked her skin with sacred letters
with ink made of blood of the sun
pushed symbols under her heart
and wrote legends over her soul

the queen arose
porcelain skin with marble stains
bringing them all to their knees
baptized in fire on her desert throne