Upon the Sky – Poem

Upon the sky I put my gaze

A new light, 

beside the sun,

had entered the frame


Upon the sky I put my gaze

Still shining brightly,

What could it be?

It’s a thing of beauty

Lets watch it with glee


Upon the sky I put my gaze

Two stars now shine upon our gates 

Where did it come from?

Where is it going?

It shine so brightly,

in things unknowing…


Upon the sky I put my gaze

My eye they burn without shades

The land is dulled,

Nothing is green

It is so hot I cannot breath


Upon the sky I put my gaze

My hallow skull is the only shade

The light shine so brightly,

What do you know

Has the world been swallowed up?

Has the world become a stove?


Upon the sky my eyes remain

The sky is brightness

It is it’s domain…

© Christopher Stamfors

If you like this one, please check out Ghostly Creed.

Ghostly Creed – Poem

The alley echoed hollow on the empty street

Silence is a virtue by ghostly creed

Old houses and graveyards, is where they’d like to be

Hollow beings which the living cannot see

They are bound by the earth as long as they are remembered

Cast to the unknown, they prefer to stay unattended

For nobody knows what lay beyond

Are you going to heaven

Or hell as a thrall?

© Christopher Stamfors

Drew the cover image by myself this time around, although very hastily…

Cold and Deep – Poetry Story

I’ve been considering doing voice over for my stories to broaden my audience. I’m an amature with anything conserning audio and video, so keep that in mind if you choose to listen to it on Soundcloud

Cold and deep

The skeleton lay

Wood enclosed it

Keeping treasure hunters at bay

Life was never the same

When old red found his grave


The seas went quite

Trade resumed

Wares from all over the world

Reached the shores without fume


But people never forgot

The horrors the old sea dog brought

His sabre high

And his spirits higher


For centuries seafarers would turn around

Whenever the mist went thick

A sea chanty they heard in the dimly night

The old sea dog’s voice echoed hoarsely

Chanting merry rhymes

of plunder and of booty

of life on the high seas

But also of his eternal soul

Who limboed at the breeze


But centuries went

And people they forgotten

Taking routes nobody dared

In the age of their grandparents


But when people learned of great treasure

Hidden in the sea

They dared old superstition

Nothing would satisfy their greed.


Greed brought them there

And greed made them stay

In the depths of forever

The captain sang, with new crew-members

in the cold and deep

© Christopher Stamfors

Invisible Touch – Poetry Story

Gusts of wind sprayed water upon the wall, the wind howled between the narrow windows that looked down at the shore.

The walls had protected the city for many years, but this night no invaders would dare to show, for walkers roamed in the darkness and everyone stayed indoors.

The streets were empty, there was silence, only the wind grew louder with compliance. Yet a lone woman scurried down the hall, her steps echoed hollow on the marble floor.

And out she went this restless night, her feet caked the mud, yet she did not slow, for what hunted her would not let her go.

With fear she ran without looking back, the darkness was thick and she did not see where she sprang. The void tipped her over, an invisible touch, the walker had decided this hunt was ending, her cries unamending.

For she was marked, her life was not her own, it would never let her go, with glee it watched her sob.

The creature was invisible, in the darkness of the night, though there were texts that made guesses, for the mere sight would end their lives.

The rain drummed on her body, her gown was thoroughly soaked, the cold made her shiver and fear made her lips they quivered.

But she did not sit for long, this restless night, her skin turned pale and cold, until the walker was satisfied.

Her eyes were empty and her body was the same, not a single drop had spilled, no markers upon her skin.

But the creature did not grin for this was not a joyous night, they once ruled the world, but now, they make due with one restless night.

© Christopher Stamfors

Featured image by ChrisCold

Troll Saga – Poem

In the time of ancients

The trolls strolled around

Walking distant miles

Trampling life abound

But one day,

beneath the trees,

animals began to grow

Inhabits of the forest

Affected by the trolls stroll


Kind were the minds of the giants

Not wanting to hurt the critters under their feet

Deciding to go back the lands of old

One troll stayed his feet


Unsure what to do

The troll had an idea

On the ground he would never be a bother

So he lay on his stomach

And he watched the critters play

On his back and on his nose

Nature grew around his frame


And after many years

His body disappeared

Nature was a part of him

And the creatures they cheered


Happy was the troll to see his friends play

Movement was secondary

In the critters bay


For eons the troll still stayed

His limbs grown to the ground

A mountain he became

This was a shortened version of a rhyme picture book I’m working on. I plan to publish it, or at least try to find a publisher, so you’ll gonna have to make due with the short version!

Lady Bliss #3 – Poem

Strangers, they find their way

Through the village of dismay

Their presence, evermore demanding

Uplifting the villagers

Their own hardship they garner

But once strangers went away

They were sorely missed

For their own hardships they are reminded

By lady bliss

Lady Bliss #2 – Poem

Strange people pass

The village unyielding

Staring at their visage

What filth unappealing

Gawk at their misfortune

They continue to do

Until all of them moved

What ever shall we do?

For as the strangers were gone

Their own misfortune they were reminded

Back at their own existence

Their lives were unwinded

Lady Bliss #1 – Poem

We rarely gawk at the strangers no more

Their appearance no longer interesting

Their complexion grown too sore

How do they live with such marks?

The villagers wondered

Such unending filth attached to their skin

At the streets yonder

Yet once the strangers were gone the villagers did not cheer

Hoping the strangers to return

Their own misfortune

They did not jeer