Sweet SerenityAs the river is drawn to the sea, So your sweet serenity, enchanted me. The soft warm breeze, light as your touch, I never loved nor yearned so much.Sweet Serenity
When will we laugh, where will we kiss, While Spring dawns new, bathed in bliss. My soul cries out, my words are lost, When passion calls, who counts the cost?
My darling girl, my baby love, My precious pearl, my star above, My darling one, my only love, My sweet serenity.
The tide flows in, it rushes out, Your voice grows low, with fear and doubt. The moon is bright, it lights your eyes, &nb
spindle feetthe soft whisper of spindle feetspindle feet
too quiet for human ear, the luminescence of slender strand too fine for human eye. a world of vibration and motion, where each silken thread speaks volumes... how like the meeting of souls this is, trembling in the dark, feeling for sighs.
SanctifiedThe holy relic of my innocence, Desecrated so long ago, Sundered and broken but still with me, Reminds me of who I was.Sanctified
Reminds me of the artificial moonlight, Filtering through the curtains, Illuminating the altar on which I willingly Sacrificed my childhood.
And I, standing on the dais of my past, Recognizing that the death of the child, Was the birth and consecration of the woman, Rejoice in the living I have done.
ForgottenLike Thomas I stick my finger in your wound, I can’t quite believe you’ve come down off the cross. I’m still so easily fooled.Forgotten
But the wound seems real enough even if it doesn’t bleed, And there is a pile of wood in the corner, Didn’t they tell you, you have to actually die to be a martyr?
I guess they just forgot.
But you haven’t quite succeeded in your resurrection, No one quite believes in you anymore. I wish I could have been the one to take you down.
Did your mother come and wrap you in her misery? Did your lover co
New Orleans NocturneThe night moves like Papa Legba, the wicked black of swamp coiled around a city too lost in winter and the dull haze of rum to feel fever in the air.New Orleans Nocturne
It starts sweet and slow, along the bayou, low to the ground catching the beat of Congo and calypso colors off the cobbled streets and pours into the city like warm molasses and indigo.
Girls with cafe au lait eyes slitted like jewels under their satin masks drape beads and baubles on wrought iron gates and catch kisses
from strangers in the street.
DreamscapeAn unclad Talasi traveled once again across the silver sands of an unfamiliar desert under a sky rich with stars. The sand sparkled under her paws to rival the heavens and the wind was gentle in her fur. She was running to the mountains, which were visible only as a void where the stars should shine. A dart of silver raced before her, as he always did. Every now and again, the silver-gray desert fox would stop at the top of a dune to make sure his larger cousin still followed, as she always had and always would. Her father had called her "faithful as the moonrise," and it would not do to disappoint him.Dreamscape
As he often did, the littl
Summer Dream| And where do I begin... I love words, I have always loved them. They dance, they sing, they shiver on the page for want of the warmth of the reader's voice. I have neglected my writing for some time now - finding other means to satiate my lust for the written word - but they are calling me again. My lost children, languishing unwritten and unread. So perhaps I will make an offering for you and lay it before you so that you may read it - love it - or loathe it. Either way, at least it will be free from the confines of my mind. |
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Chase the morning! Yield for nothing! - Repo! The Genetic Opera
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"To really ask is to open the door to the whirlwind. The answer may annihilate the question and the questioner." - Lestat
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"String up your harp/Play like today will last five minutes/This won't take long/Sing us a song that stops the silence."--Walls of Jericho, Fair to Midland
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