Airship-Hobbit

Riordan Augustin

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Renew by Airship-Hobbit, literature

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Renew

Resting on your bed of liturgies, the rose you plucked is black and dead all while your children cry for food. This holy bread and holy wine is made unclean by all your lies. The once-white robes are gray with ash from shattered censors burning coal, and though you claim a crown of glory, you weave a crown of thorns for sons and daughters of your homes and make them heirs of pain. The glory is departed while you push the world away and yet invite the gold and silver; silk and linen on the altar Cumin and thyme, basil and mint, and pennies in the collection dish. Where are the priests? Where are the prophets? Do you remember

Bury the Child by Airship-Hobbit, literature

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Bury the Child

Bury the child in a broken coffin with an empty censer, for who will pray? You killed her with your bloody hands; she starved for the food you stole. She was your child, so beautiful, with a sweet and untrained voice, yet most who saw her told you that she'd make the world rejoice. When the winter came, she faded away, shadows of monsters in clouds of steam from the fires crying out in the hearth drawing you back you back to your home where they would tell you: "She doesn't exist, there is no child. Monsters and visions are lies. All poets are dead to the world and hope won't feed the stomach. Hearts are not for dreaming, o

I Came to Find an Answer by Airship-Hobbit, literature

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I Came to Find an Answer

I came to find an answer, but I only found a room of papers bound with leather, twine and rancid smelling glue. The pages filled with ink were black with all the words, no room to see the vellum hid beneath. The answers to my questions were hidden in the heap of blotches, swirls and lines that lay imbued in leather. The helpful worker handed me the dusty ancient tome, with which the ages made their notes, addenda, on and on. I came to find an answer, but I only found a book, of papers bound in dogma, lies and commentary words. The answers hidden from me, I failed to see the words, no room to find the temple hid within.

A Prayer of the Hurting by Airship-Hobbit, literature

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A Prayer of the Hurting

Lord of all nature and master of heaven, I want to be near you today. Hurting inside, in the pit of my soul, heal, oh Lord, this I pray. I cried to you, singing a song of rejoicing, I cried out my sorrow and pain. I wanted to know that you'd heal me, receive me, to strengthen me up, yet I fell. I cried out in sorrow, I hollered in fear, "Take me out of this dark world!" I want to be healed and I want to be clean, but I cannot be either while here. My mind is a sorrow, my heart is a battle, a crashing of swords and of shields. Tearing apart at the soul once a child, how can I be made to a man? If you will not heal me, at le

Drowning Until Alive by Airship-Hobbit, literature

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Drowning Until Alive

Surrounded by water, an island I am, submerged as Atlantis for pride. The other in waders takes hold of my arms and tips me down under the waves. He's drowning me deep in the baptismal fountain, air is retreating from lungs as I die. Killing my body and killing my soul, die to the world or survive? Kicking for air, my regret comes with chlorine. Ready, get ready the choir to sing. Just as I am I'm not ready to die; I have dreams and desires. I wanted to fly through the world on the wings of an eagle. Don't chain me right down to a pew! The serpent has found me as the fire surrounds me. My fear fills me burning the water away.

Sabbath Rest by Airship-Hobbit, literature

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Sabbath Rest

Where is my Sabbath rest? How can I have some peace, with all this inner war, I can see no release. The preacher's talking in my ear as the choir's singing loud and off-key. I want to be still and know You're God, but they won't just let me be. I try to turn and come to church, but when the hour's over they all go home, I'm sitting there still and not found the Spirit; I'm not sure if I ever will. They tell me they're glad that I came to the service, but neglect me, to ask me my name. How can they love me if they don't even know me? How can they care? How I dare believe, believe in the Spirit, the wonders of Heaven; I'm figh

Screaming Through the Shadows by Airship-Hobbit, literature

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Screaming Through the Shadows

Screaming through the shadows, Crying in the night, A panicked torment, wail of sorrow Rises from the incense altar. A child in a corner, clutching at his knees, a whimper here declares his pain, He's looking at the shadowed stairs, that lead into the attic. Heard the stories of the nightmares, of the things that dwell in darkness, he's the child who dwells in corners, crying in the night. A scream up from the shadows, crying in the night, A panicked torment, wail of sorrow, rises from the incense altar. A drunkard on a soiled mat, he's clutching at his bottle, demon whiskey was the name of that old god he used to praise, b

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Renew by Airship-Hobbit, literature

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Renew

Bury the Child by Airship-Hobbit, literature

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Bury the Child

I Came to Find an Answer by Airship-Hobbit, literature

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I Came to Find an Answer

A Prayer of the Hurting by Airship-Hobbit, literature

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A Prayer of the Hurting

Drowning Until Alive by Airship-Hobbit, literature

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Drowning Until Alive

Sabbath Rest by Airship-Hobbit, literature

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Sabbath Rest

Screaming Through the Shadows by Airship-Hobbit, literature

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Screaming Through the Shadows

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Bury the Child by Airship-Hobbit, literature

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About Airship-Hobbit

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Artist

July 18
United States
Deviant for 13 years
He / Him

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My Bio

I'm a 27-year-old married student of theology and languages, but primarily I'm a subcreator in the sense of Tolkien's poem "Mythopoeia." I'm a conworlder and (as yet aspiring) fantasy novelist, as well as a poet, almost-philosopher and coffee bum. Other than that, my hat it has three corners and three corners have my hat.

Current Residence: West of the Appalachians and east of the Rockies.
Favourite genre of music: symphonic rock; steampunk; klezmer
Favourite style of art: realistic fantasy
Operating System: Windows 7
Shell of choice: Clam
Wallpaper of choice: I prefer paint
Skin of choice: My wife's.
Personal Quote: Pick your crazy

Favourite Movies

The Princess Bride

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Nightwish; Abney Park

Favourite Writers

two-way toss-up: Tuomas Holopainen; King David

Favourite Games

Sims 3

Favourite Gaming Platform

computer

Tools of the Trade

My brain

Other Interests

history, mythology, linguistics, and anthing else related to conworlding.

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Airship-Hobbit

Sep 24, 2010

September 24:

0 min read

Do I continue? With this pain in my neck, stabbing me through the brain and in the right eyeball from behind, I really wish I could just get a new neck, but I can't. With the lack of ability to concentrate and really be able to understand the topics in my classes as easily as I'd like, I wish I could get a new brain. With the fact that I spent six years chasing my mind through dark alleyways of nightmare cities while being chased by the monsters that had stolen it away, I wish I could get a new chance at those six years. Still, I can't get a new neck or a new brain, and the six years made me who I am today. Is that a good thing? I'm told tha

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Airship-Hobbit

Sep 19, 2010

First dA journal entry: 9/19/2010

0 min read

I was on Deviant Art a while ago, under a different name, but when I decided to come back, I wanted a new start and a new name. At the deep recesses of my kidneys, as certain ancient poets might have said, I am a poet. A more modern poet might use the analogy of the heart, but I like to in my kidneys. It's a gut feeling that can't be stopped or ignored, and pulling and hunger for the poetry and music of the soul. When you have that kind of soul-hunger, but don't have a calling, it can drive a person insane; that's what it did to me. It's kind of frustrating, not being able to draw or paint, since I mostly think in pictures and scenes. Of c