Breathe in.
Take the mornings
into your soul.
Own it.
Know it.
It is the scent
of shame.
forget it.

God, God’s
Deities, cosmos,
Angels, Gaia,
Science, Atoms
Spirits, nothing.

Breathe in.
Feel the moist air.
Celestial tears
for the fallen.
Own it.
Know it.
It is the tears
of shame,
forget it.

God. God’s.
Deities. Cosmos.
Angels. Gaia.
Science. Atoms.
Spirits. . .

Breathe in.
Listen. Listen
to your inner guide.
Hear the universe
as she speaks.
Karma has a voice.
The angels speak
in whispers.
God talks through
The earth screams
through leaves.

Our fallen,
angel wings
leave a trail of
shadows to
heaven’s gate.

God. God’s.
Deities. Cosmos.
Angels. Gaia.
Science. Atoms.
Spirits. . .
Nothing. . .
Stand guard.
Returning evil.
Waiting at the
gates of hell.

There is no glory
In blood
stained hands,
even Satan,
refuses to open
his gates.

Karen Hayward (c) 2017

Image found on pinterest

At the mouth of Eden.



…and when I stand before gates of pearl at Edens mouth, our

creator calling my name on divine breath within a

celestial Kingdom, will I find you waiting beneath golden rays,

scroll in hand the calligraphy collective of pain scrawled upon

ancient paper? Will I recognise your face from the haunting moments

in my life that I beg to forget? Is the ink in which you write the essence of

every heartbreak I have felt and will I smell again the stench

of rotting death that has followed me in my darkest moments?

Or will I discover on entering the gates that all along you had

wings of such magnitude and upon that scroll is not a lifetimes

pain but a lifetimes achievements. And that the ink in which you

write truly is not the essence of pain but the collective jar of my tears,

each one a reminder to the Angels of Time why it is that they guard

Pandora’s box. And when I hear your voice will I instantly know

you were the birds that chirped at mornings dawn, the breeze that

whistled through autumn trees and the rain that tapped

upon my soul. And will you tell me that in my darkest

moments when my soul was being torn from my existence,

it was not my pain you were there to collect…it was my fear

and all that held me back.


Karen Hayward ©2016


The vast emptiness of none existence

The silent echo of humanity scream but their voices make not a single sound. The vibrational reverberation of irrational fear, the shallow drive, the eager spirits the driving force that leads the masses to the devil’s gates. And oh how he rubs his hands in glee as he sings to the ancient song of pan and dances with sprites at his side. 

Selene where are you and your silver carriage when I need you most? The heavens skies are empty and I see no sign of your trusted snow white horses their names tantalisingly teasing the very atoms of our existence. Where is your shining light when my skies are plunged into darkness? .

Guardians of the souls that walk this earth why can i feel not the softness of your feathers against my cheek and the soft breeze of your beating wings. Where have you gone?  Your voice loud and clear beckoning me from my slumber still rings through my ears, but eyes open I see it is just myself, my weaknesses and the emptiness.

Dear darkness from whence the devil walks on tippy toes with a sly and silken smile, I hardly recognise his face or skin for I know only the touch of his sins. Prey tell me you hold captive the light inside my world. What damp and dismal sheer delight he must feel as he ponders the muse of my soul and shakes salt within my wounds.

I stare.up into the vast emptiness of cloudy sky, the moons glow and the twinkling stars bid farewell as the lights dull  and the skies scream in angry outbursts. Perhaps God is the devil and together they sit and ponder existence in the eyes of the divine. The morning bird beckons and soon Selene must hand back her reigns as day creeps ever closer.

I search the floor for my shadow  but as always I cannot find it, for in this life it is my truth to be forever searching fir the element of abandonment in the words of the spoken and the eyes of the silent.

Karen Hayward 2016

If you go to hell.

If I go to heaven
and you go to hell,
I’ll find a way
to break your spell.
I’ll send down a rope
with a knot at the end,
so you can climb out
Each time it is sent.
I’ll build a door and
leave out a key
beneath a flowerpot
of beautiful daisies.
I’ll keep watch at the window
whilst you climb the rope,
We’ll wash you with water
and Jasmine soap.
I’ll show you the views
from heaven above,
we’ll lay on the clouds
and passionately make love.

Karen Hayward ©2016

Heaven doesn’t want me and neither does hell.

I don’t believe,
In God,
Or heaven,
Or hell,
Or the devil,
On some level.
I don’t believe
My actions
Will be
Accounted for,
Or that i’ll stand
At a pearly door.
I don’t think,
That the good
Go to heaven, and
The bad, to the
Flaming pits of hell.
I think they have
It wrong, sometimes
The bad are the
Strong, the good the weak,
That the devil does seek.
I’ve broken the rules, and
Refused to repent,
No lightening bolts
Were sent,
i’m good,
And i’m always kind,
But never because i
Have a religious mind.
Sometimes i’m bad,
And it makes me feel glad,
Do i make God mad?
maybe i do, maybe i don’t
but live by his rules,
i wont.

Satan sneers.

Satan sneers as I enter his burning gates,
He has his Constantine. I will pray
that my sacrifice will enlighten Peters
heart, and he will reach down into the
Very depths of the burning cave of the damned,
and upon my shoulder, place his protective hand, and
Like the phoenix, that rises from the ashes,
I will rise to heavens gates.