Captive

Knock on your heart and ask it to let go. Tell it that it should no longer feel the way it does. It more than likely will just mock you and continue to dig its self a grave for which there will be no return from. So then, how does one go about severing the heart from the cognitive mind? To allow it to still feel, to still beat to a drum all its own, but keep it from the mind. To not allow the mind to register those dark seeded, mysterious, beyond rhyme and reason feelings?

These questions will test the true fabric of one's soul until their dying breath. There is no return once that single threshold has been crossed. There is no looking back, there is no reliving the past as it was written, the actions of the past might rear their ugly heads once again, but the outcome will be vastly different. We live, we learn. We are wounded but we heal. We recover, we become better with age, we mature, we obtain knowledge that will build the bridge over what we once thought was uncrossable. We will stake out on our new adventure within the same life as we have lead, with a new out look. A new prospective on the old. See things we blindly over looked once before. To not become duped and lead astray again.

There will be those same lingering wraiths in the shadows that will try to slip out and sink their talons in deep, and not let go. To hold captive the fears that once lived and flourished in the fertile grounds of the mind and heart. However, this time around, they will not be given the fuel they need to grow and fester; to infect everything around them. Their poison will not be given the host to dwell within. Where there was once dark there is light, to expel those shadows, to give way to the room to move forward. To trudge, to continue against the odds, against person will, but through sheer determination. Seeking out strengths that were once weakness.

Confidence will be the rouse, strength will soon dispel such rouse and make it golden truth. IF truth was not harsh, then there would be no need to lie. No need to mask what the truth holds within the ugly brutal black and white. Truth is not grey, it is the black to the white. It is the hand that wraps around the throat, strangling the breath of dream and hopes. It is the children's laughter, but the irony that soon the innocence of that laughter will turn jaded. Such is the way of the world, giving that protective veil of innocence, where one can blindly move through life believing that all is well... but soon death, decay, deceit, lies, cruelty, all of the sins of the world will slink their ways in with their seductive dance of ribbons, to pierce the veil and rip is asunder. To expose the virgin eyes to the world around them.

Anguish will come and there will be naught one can do to stop the whirl wind tango that will progress. It will start out small, things that can be over looked, but soon, there will be no turning the cheek, no putting on the blinders. One day, we all have to face the ugly truth, to face it head on and lift our chins and steel our wills against it, or become the moth crushed under the wheel of fate.

Fate... She is one bitch not to be reckoned with. Where karma is the wench with razor blades, and she cuts deep on the occasion, but there is a calm with karma, but with Fate, there is no tenderness to her touch. There is no reprieve from her vicious cycle. Giving and taking, much like death... never knowing what hand you will be dealt, when to take a risk, when to rise the bet, when to hold, when to call... never knowing if it a bluff that she holds. Risk... it is all a game of risk mixed in with the clever coyness of a fox, the cunning sharp wit of woman... clever as any warrior... trusting in your self and knowing that with a mocking smile from fate, that you are utterly fucked.

Tenderness, bah, it is a laughable word. There is nothing tender in this world. It is vicious, it is the way it is.

No, no, there is no need to pity, that is a horrid state of mind any way, and an utter waste of time and energy. But hate... now hate is a powerful emotion, where revenge blooms. It is wicked, it is that one emotion where passion has no counter part of compassion. Where it is purely selfish and there needs be no reason to apologize for it. Hate will rear an ugly head in the form of jealousy, but those that know the emotion well, will realize it is no jealousy, it is not envy, it is not any other form of the pathetic emotions that makes one less than what they are. They are normal human emotions, sure enough, but they are emotions for slaves and whores. They have no place in a free woman's world. They have no place in mine.

I laugh, and people wonder why. Believing that I should be.... what??? Destroyed, crumpled on the floor of my villa wallowing in.... defeat... pft. That is the last thing that will happen. There are just somethings that require a more refined and elegant approach. With a cold touch, and a seductive burn. To tap into the heritage of my blood lines, to ascertain from it what I will need to become everything I am meant to be.

Time is just the road on which I ride the gales of. It is what I do with that time that will define me, not the other way around. The events of my life have been that, mile stones. From one memory to another, it is how I react to those events, how I come out on the other end, not the event it's self. Me... I ... my self... I am in control of it. I am the one that gets to decide how I should feel, how I should react, how I should progress.

One little fork in the road. One is the easier way out... the other is darker but is the higher ground. My love for Cos, has lead me to take the higher road. To continue forward. I will not let my past define who I will be tomorrow. I alone will make that choice.

I will no longer be the captive in this little game, even if I remain the prey, I will not remain the captive. Under the thumb no longer. With in the embrace of destiny I find a new path to travel. So fate... bring it on... lets dance under the pale moon light... what devils will you throw my way.

Intermission

How fickle can the night become? Mm, lets just humor the mind for now and count the ways, but afraid I would run out of ink and page before the answers are penned down for all entirety for some poor soul to stumble upon it and should they read it, if they can read that is. Half the world is blind, the other ignorant. Simpletons, truly.

However, we have come to the intermission... now is when the mind plays the devious tricks upon the heart... and the lingering fires of the soul. The stage has been set, but, it would appear that the puppet master has grown bored of the game and the puppets have just been placed with in a little toy box and left upon a high self. Oh, what a rusty cage we sit in. The illusions have been played out, now the truth behind the curtain and smoke and mirrors are revealed for those that have the keen eye and sharp mind to take note of it.

So, what we have here is a pretty little doll house, and pretty little figurines that are there collecting dust, well hog wash to that whole debacle. I refuse to sit on some self and just wait and twiddle my thumbs and expect something to happen. Seriously?! It is out of the question, I refuse to take this with my back turned. Oh no, no, there will be no snide remarks that go unheard, plots that are unseen. This will be a full frontal attack.

Intermission???

Now that is just the perfect time to introduce the foreplay before the next carnal lusty act to take place. For the next scene, the next act, the next draw of life to begin. While one might be taking an intermission, -I- however will not be. Pawns are in place and set to place roots, and leech information.

Now, that sounds evil. Perhaps it is. But time for nice an polite has come to a bloody end. It is time to turn the tables and drive the dagger home and true for the last time.

Expectations...?

I have none, never did. Just the illusion of hope. The faith enough to be allowed the fanciful indulgence to dare ever hope for anything more than what I have right now... Will this mean I give up... please, when has anyone known me to ever give up? Hm? Oh... that is right, --NEVER-- It is not in me to give up, I am a stubborn wench and truly I do not care.

Opinions?

Everyone has them, and the brilliant thing about them, they mean squat to me, they are like asses, everyone has them and they are full of shit. So let them talk, let them have there little truffles and wine, for I do not give two flying tarns at the moment. It does not concern me, it matters so little in my own world, wrapped in my selfish desires.

Love?

It is just a dirty word, used as the pink ribbon tied in a bow that combines, lust, passion, desire, possession and the many other wonderful human emotions. It is fickle, for --IF-- one truly, honestly, loves another, they give all, forsake the rest, and expect nothing in return. They do not hold out for the hope the other will return those same emotions, that is lust... that is the carnal natural desires that are sparked in us as humans, as mammals.

Trust?

I have it. It does not lack. I keep few friends for a purpose, I mock others for a reason. I keep people at a distance. Less I let in, the less that can shatter trust, the less that can bruise the heart and leave a valley so empty that it swallows me whole, leaving me to wallow with in the crippling pain of the lost half. Trust your enemies, at least they are constant in their actions. The hate you or want you dead. How can one differ in that path? Hm? No... see it is the ones that you let in, that gain and earn your trust, your blind faith that without fail turn it on your and just run you through with the sword and expect you to bat an eye lash and let everything be all right. When nothing is all right, it is so wrong that shit smells like roses. Are you kidding me? I can pretend with the best of them. Act and give them a show. After all that is what this is all about.

My Illusion?

Is what every I deem it to be. To become and be anyone I so choose when I so choose. I know I can will away all the pain if I so choose, or I can cling on to it like a life line and use it to fuel and feed the illusions I weave. I am not the soft flighty sort of woman. Some think I like them... oh, but if they knew the truth, afraid this compassionate, devoted, loyal, strong, woman would just crush their sensitive emotions.

Hurt?

Yes, yes I hurt. Yes I feel, acutely so. I know the pains of many things, have seen things no other should. Have been through things that should have been my end, my ruin. And yet, my skeletons, my past, my secrets, my sins, my dark desires are not to rule me, they do not define who I am. They might damage a reputation, but a reputation is not who I am. No one truly knows who I am. And that is the way it will be. I do not have to please people, I have no need to. I heal for I am good at it, and it is one of the driving forces in my life. Cos and my children are the other two.

Curtain call...

The draw of the curtain and the show must go on. The show does go on. So we give them a little spice to gossip about, we give them some fodder for thought. IF they can even form two thoughts together, more than likely not. Some can, and those are rather interesting people. But... when the holy trinity, the mind, the heart, the loins, all come together in unison, that is when mountains are moved, that is when dreams come true, adventure is laid out. When Spence and anticipation are the addictions... So sweet serenity... lets tango shall we... give the mob something new to fret about. How many can we make squirm? The lights are lit, the audience is waiting with baited breath... we shall keep them no longer...

Never turn your back on a tempest, for her siren's call will still assault your in your inner ear...

Trust me... Trust in me... [Nothing but empty words without honesty]

Tempest

Tempest

You saw perched on a cliff a maid,
Her raiment white above the breakers,
When the mad sea reared up and played
Its whips of spray on coastal acres
And now and then the lightnings flush,
And purple gleams upon her hover,
And fluttering up in swirling rush,
The wind rides in her airy cover?
Fair is the sea in gales arrayed,
The heavens drained of blue and flashing,
But fairer on her cliff the maid
Than storms and skies and breakers crashing.

---Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin

Gone

Dancing in the firelight
hooked together to take flightf
or precious moments we do no wrong
if we listen to our song
then its gone its leaving fast
all our love left in a blast
standing in the roses two
we have nothing left to do
we turn away and both can see
exactly how we're meant to be
but all is lost we say good-bye
so much for our plan to fly
i might get over it
i might move on
but life is hard when your soulmates' gone

Tears

TEARS
Tears of Joy
Tears of sorrow
Tears I cry of forgotten tomorrows
Tears in vain
I cry my tears
Trickle down my cheek
Sparkle in the light
Lift up my chin as I weep in the night
I must remember all my emotions
For I will keep them in a box to bring out
When I must hide them otherwise
Or I will be chided
So, Hold these tears for another day
Then I can surely use them
When I am in hiding

Soulmate

And if by chance you wanted me not,
Into a cave my heart would sure fall.
But I’d pick up the pace and summon my pluck
And learn to plunge back out into it all.

You must know this one thing to tell of my heart.
This is from a muse so true,
I’d venture a universe thrice deep as far,
To find another such as you.

You are stitched to my heart,
To your love I am bound.
You make life seem like art,
My soul mate I finally found.

Storm

Storm


The way you look at me,
Is like no one else sees.
Your glances pierce my heart;
Your stares mend my soul.

A darkness brews behind your eyes,
Baffling brilliant blue,
As silently you stew,
A smile of mystery on your lips.

I ache inside when not with you.
Not the burning pain of loss,
But passion missed,
For you are there and not here.

You stir me with a touch,
And raise a storm inside me.
My heart pounds with thunder,
Death's drums beat in my ears.

Remembering the brush of your lips,
Sets me quivering,
Electricity and ecstasy.
I'm afire, longing for the next rain.

Many a splintered things.

Life is many a splintered things. Never knowing when or where the journey will take you. When the ground will crumble beneath your feet, when the crack of the wood will come, the sounds of the waves become the all consuming sound with in your inner ear as the very vivid feel of the last breath in your lungs being strangled out.

How peculiar it is, to sit and ponder the many different mountains we have climbed, our victories as they mount, but the constant over shadowing of those defeats that stole a part of us. The memories of the climb out weight both the fall and the rises. The ash lays around your feet, but it is the fire in the soul that soars beyond it all. The one eternal light to lead you through the dark. The constant guide that will not lead you astray.

Follow your heart they say, follow it and you will never step off the path... however, I would argue different, I believe that if one truly follows their heart, there is no path, there are no limits, no boundaries, it will take you out of this plane, away from logic and reason. Beyond redemption, there will be no salvation but through utter submission to one's heart, to follow it completely will take them to a true whirl wind of utter insanity with excruciating moments of sanity. Where black becomes the light, and white becomes the darkness, where fire drowns and water burns. Where nothing makes any sense, and yet it is the perfect sense. The heart is insane, not the mind. The battle that one wages that will far surpass any battle of men, is that of the mind and heart... the body and the soul. The battles are gruesome, they are bloody, they hold no quarter, they expected nothing and yet demand everything. Contradicting its self time and again and yet we scream for more, be it through agony of the pleasure of it all. That lingering burn of addiction that we as the ones that have tasted the sweet ambrosia of the poison of our hearts only quiver in delight and anticipation to quell the hunger that grows. There is no remorse, it is a constant state of purgatory.

Swallow me whole... fellow string puppet of the bleak and yet glorious state in which our hearts hold us. The chains that sing out there antagonizing melody to our minds, that renders it silly with the innuendos that it gives prelude to. The dangerous game in which we tap dance, the dance in the pale moon light, where the only demon is our self... we are our greatest foe and out strongest ally. We trust our self, and yet we doubt our self. Confidence is something that can be stole with just one slice of the dagger, but can be pulled from the deep rooted pain. So kindred spirit of the heart's battle... how similar we are... stretching out across the great span of the world.. time and space hold no meaning. There is nothing to tell one moment from another.

As constant as the sea, as steady as the star... but... as ever changing as the phases of the moon that linger above us... honest as the day is long... OH how i wish it would rot and dissipate like the tempest when the brilliance of dawn wakes and leaves the destruction with that ever annoying lingering hope that plants the seed deep with in and with the fertile feeding of faith the foolish notions of believing, the dreams that haunt and torture we are trapped, held as bound as any of the flesh and mortal realm can be...

Is there ever true freedom... are we not slaves to our own devices... our own codes and morals... to the very limits of our physical being?? Do we not have a choice... NO... we cannot help who we love... we are not suppose to... oh the true sting of utter love... all consuming, hell fire burning, sinful delectable love that does not expect, it does not demand anything in return. The depths of valleys that is consumes is awe striking and humbling. Never knowing the true depths one can love until they fall to that abyss never to see the light of sanity again... for the plague as thus struck and you are there... the dummy target practice to take hit after hit... and you come roaring back for more... you try and find the glee in it all... seek the irony in which would put reason to it all.

But, there is no poetic justice to this. Only the plain... obvious... vicious cycle that comes around again and again. Release... there is no such thing. For even in death it will linger, for it touches upon everything and anyone in this life and will carry with you to the life here after. Imprinted upon your children, born of love, for that love, that need, that depth of love will grow there inside and through them your mark upon this world has been set.

The object of your love might be confused with passion and lust... but without passion or lust there is no common ground for love to grow. The wicked lines that are drawn not to be crossed, and yet they are bent, they are pushed, tested and broken. Love finds away, it always does. Even if at the end of the night you feel nothing but the surface deep pain that has some out found that one missing ring in your chain mail, it has seeped into your veins with its dark spindles infecting ever pore.

So... do we sit here, drown in the oubliette that we have been left in. That dark place to be forgotten, untouched by anything else, left there to gather the cob webs, while the torture continues to fester, while we are the victims of our Puppet Master, unable to break free of those unseen bonds that hold us trapped forever more?

While the bleak and honest view of this may seem like nothing more than a mad woman's rants, it how ever is the honest view of it all. Love and life are man splintered things... and yet we relish with in it, from the depths of pain we know the true golden virtue of what is beyond words and measures when that bloom opens and the dew kisses upon the petals as the dawn breaks, the light is reflected, and there is nothing left in the moment to worry about, save the two lovers running through the moon beams, with enough love to stop the world, bend the fabric of time, to throw off kilter the design of life...

It is in of its self... bitter irony... but to question it would be like taking the dagger to your own bosom, or to ingest the poison that will stop the breath...

So question naught... moreover... if you truly wish something, no mountain, no single solitary object will stop you, not even your own self imposed prison of denial and codes will prevent you from taking what it is that you truly wish... --if-- it is truly what you wish, you will find away to have it in your life in an all consuming fashion... there would be no mountain, for you would move it, there would be no time, for you would seize it... to caution to those out there... actions are the trust testimony to the heart... a drunken tongue is the gateway for a sober heart to be expressed. So drink up and let out what it is that you harbor in the deep unknown recces of your heart, let it be known to the world and never have regrets... for what you have now is exactly what you wanted, or you would not have it... you made the choices in which you have... you found away to have everything you want and a way to keep what you want away from all else... with that tricky little deception guise that all fall for...

All with the wool over there eyes and the cages to their hearts. But to the one that holds the key, it is all very clear. It is all very apparent... lets pray that -one day-, -some day-, is not that one time it is to late to correct an err, to make right what should have always been.

I already hold the last laugh with my wine goblet against my lips in the intoxicating cast of shadows from the fire, making a mockery of a lovers caress... temptation is a bitch, ain't it? Well... temptation has nothing on a Temptress, a Siren, an enchantress... the dark desire that still walks with the strength and determination and the intimate knowledge to obtain just what is she wants... or the ability to squash any last remnant of what once was...

Whisper

Catch me as I fall

Say you're here and it's all over now

Speaking to the atmosphere

No one's here and I fall into myself

This truth drives meI

nto madness

I know I can stop the pain

If I will it all away

[Chorus:]

Don't turn away

(Don't give in to the pain)

Don't try to hide

(Though they're screaming your name)

Don't close your eyes

(God knows what lies behind them)

Don't turn out the light

(Never sleep never die)

I'm frightened by what I see

But somehow I know

That there's much more to come

Immobilized by my fear

And soon to be

Blinded by tears

I can stop the pain

If I will it all away

Fallen angels at my feet

Whispered voices at my ear

Death before my eyes

Lying next to me I fear

She beckons me

Shall I give in

Upon my end shall I begin

Forsaking all I've fallen for

I rise to meet the end

Servatis a periculum [save us from danger].

Servatis a maleficum [save us from evil].

Beating sound of love...

In the distance between time and space all thing slow down... gravity no longer is the bonds in which hold. Instead it is the the invisible bonds of love in which hold ones feet upon the soil of the ground...

In the distance the memories of the past remind us of days of old and hope of tomorrow. Dreams are the the honesty of a sober heart that go unanswered...

However... no more. I will not stand in the gray shadows of a memory or a dream that makes the heart beat just a touch faster than before... I will be the catch of breath in the present, the kiss that lingers and never is felt, the tingle upon the flesh like an eerie ghost that blows across the back of the neck. The dark desire that once swore that she was not to be had for the wanting...

Oh... but I am... and I will be every bit of it and more... the resolve of the heart is one thing never to look down at.. the strength can and will move mountains. To steal the breath and give gales on which to sore upon.

There was a time for grief, there was a time for sorrow and pain, the tears have cleansed the soul... after the death of my great grandfather just a few short moons ago, I remember his last words to me, as his axe and shield hang above my hearth I am reminded of his words, of his teachings... reminded of who I am...

They mistake me... Fools... A woman in love is capable of doing a many great things and I will not let my inner strength to be hidden any longer, no longer does the veil shield it from the world...

Call me what they will... and oh they will speak, they always do. The 'mob' they have nothing better to do than to gossip and spread lie of which they know nothing about. Petty jealousy is all that spurns them onward... shame.. never. And I wont pity them, it is not the gorean way.

Confidence is something that so few wear any more... most are nothing but drooling sluts begging the gorean men to notice them and collar them...

Listening to the waves of the thassa the fire is sparked once again. I am on Cos once again, where I belong. I listen to the talk of the gossip circles and there is a soft smile upon my lips that hides the thoughts that run through my mind. I am graceful... I can be viscous and yet they wont see it coming... he never did...

There will be no ridding of my presence... afraid it is there to stay.

Listen to the beating sound of love, it will lead you to where you heart truly desires... and if it is what you truly desire one will take it with the tip of sword and there will be room for a rebuttal. There will be no accepting 'no' as an answer. It will come like the molten red hot of a black smith's fires... it will melt anything that stands in the way, and that is the day when two souls will find one another again...

Until then I sit back, I watch. I smile that sweet little smile and stand tall proud and confident. No... this wont be an over night thing... but... it wont falter... I have my own sword to fight this battle... even if it is just in the form of love... sharp is the blade of love and will defeat all advisories that dare come between them.

This is but a mountain my love... however will you reach me half way or will you cut down the mountain before I move it... oh the suspense thrills me... the tango progresses...

Hurt just a little more...

Bleed just a bit more... fear all the more, shake without trembles. Consume without becoming addicted... life is full of cruel laws...

Look, never touch. Touch, but don't taste. Taste, but do not swallow... it is all just a bit odd. Natural order of nature has us constantly in a battle of wits with her. Always going against what should be. Break rules left and right, in a blink of an eye a life is changed. Things cannot be undone, they are forever written into the pages of history, forever made immortal through past actions.

Memories are forever, they haunt and relieve. Torment and soothe, they comfort and cause agony all the same... dwindle does the candle light, the hiss as the flame is snuffed out, the linger of the cruel smoke plume rises from the wick, and the world around you fall to a deadly hush.

In an instant the skies became dark, the roar of the drums were heard, then the shrills of the tarns over head. The screams, those blood curdling screams that reach out and lash into you like a whip knife, tearing limb from limb, flesh from bone... the one that is like raw metal along a hard surface. The smoke became thick, soon the clashes of steel are drawn, flames blaze and burn, eating all in it's path.

Fleeing are the women and children, few make it out. Wood splinters and protests the flames that are now licking at it's healthy fuel, fire is a greedy bitch for which nothing is safe from her flames. Reaching out to consume all in its path... The draft animals rear in terror as their natural instincts are kicking in. Wagons are over turned, crushed are many that followed the caravan, villages around us are being burned to the ground. Raiders have come, they have taken over everything without mercy or recourse. No yielding, by the steel they live, by the coin their thrive...

I can hear the screams of women being taken captive, the sounds of death all around me. Smoke is hard to see through, it burns my eyes and I can feel the tightness in my chest. But I am trapped under the wagon, there is no where for me to go. Pain shots through my body, but biting my tongue with a nasty pressure to keep my self silent, unnoticed. Perhaps I will make it through. Slipping further under the wagon to try and free my leg. The heat of the fires are very real now, I feel the singe upon my flesh, the blood running down my cheek, and various other places. I do not dare cry out for help, it would cause more death, and risk my own life...

The thunderous foot steps approach and my whole body tenses, reaching for anything that could be use as a dire attempt to save my own life. Praying to the spirits that I too will make it through. --Finally my leg it freed from its captivity. However, I still stay under the wagon, watching the shuffle of foot steps, the layer of smoke becomes all the more, laying down a layer that turns men to nightmarish fiends, appearing like death him self and then gone again... near black as the pitch is now poured, I hear more of the terror around me...

Fallen now before is a warrior... I watch as he bleeds his last breath, seeing how death comes to him... such an odd bone chilling peace rushes over his face. Tears streaking my soot covered face. A quick breath and trying not to cough as the air is too thick to breathe. I push out from under the wagon, making a dead sprint to the woods, adrenaline is pumping, no longer do I feel the pain.

In the mixture of emotions there are only a few that come to mind, names rise to my lips... Again, death and I dance... our interlude continues... he flirts with disaster... he craves that principal point in which to strike, to hold my hear's beat in his hand and --squeeze-- ever so slightly, just enough to bring me to my knees in the dense wood, a hand races to cover my heart, wheezing for my last breath, struggle to clear my lungs and face. The pain turns my vision red, crippling me... Still I urge my self onward, blood running along my flesh, fabric torn... A fight for survival... a fight for my life...

Memories guide me... voices urge me forward...

Falling at the edge of the woods, well beyond the sounds of the raid behind me.. lost is my strength, to the bed of leaves I fall...

The rest is but a blur to me... how long I was out I will never truly know... but it was to Cos I ran to... to my beloved shores... to my sons... to my life... --HOME-- It is where in my heart I can only be.

Memories are the dagger...

At times I have to wonder... is it all worth it? Would it not be easier to throw in the towel and say enough is enough... to give in to the pain, let it swallow me like a spliting flame of hells fires. To let it utterly consume me until my last breath is stolen by the blacken smog that it produces as the flames fill my lungs. Feel the last beat of my heart... give up the fight... let Death finally win... let him take me into his dark and cold embrace and hold me there in purgatory forever more, in the life here after... to give into the sorrow that cuts deep, into my soul, tearing at the very fabric of my soul.

Confliction, fears, terror, darkness, it is an all consuming feeling... can anyone ever reach me again... have I slipped to far under the surface, have I refused the only offered hand to pull me forth once again, to breath anew, to feel the air of life fill me again. I do not know if I want to fight any more. I am unsure if I want to. I do not know where to turn to these days...

The disorted shadows of memories that linger and haunt still... drive the dagger again into the heart. Feeling the struggle of my soul.

There are moments, small ones, where I feel my self give in, where I enjoy the light, instead of embracing the darkness. They are small moments where I can feel the warmth caressing me once again. Filling me with the dreams of hope... I see the look in his eyes, and I feel that pull, but then the conflict starts again. I am stuck and stranded... lost to the waves, the weight of it all.

And I crumble and yet again I am pulled away, swept back under the waves...

Is it too much to have my own demands, to have the proof, be shown what I need to be shown to restore the hope and faith and trust?? Can one mend a broken heart, teach them to accept the harshness of reality and not lose touch with the world around them, or the light and love in their own heart? Can I let anyone back in... anyone at all... can i let them get close enough to me?

Frozen in a gray fog

Drowning in fire, burned by the water, trapped and frozen in the gray fog that wraps around me now. I feel the bitter sting of the cold seep into my very veins and freeze there the lightening that courses through my veins... I know naught what to think... even less what to feel...

Trapped... upon the torture rake I have been placed... mind is pulled one direction, the heart & soul another, the body in yet a different direction... where is my once true north... where is the one that held my heart so gingerly and then in an instant crushed it to nothing?

Tears do not run tonight, instead, like a knife through the sky my anguish rang out from the depths of my lungs, the cold air rushed quickly into my mouth, I could feel the constrictions of my throat, the protests of my lungs and yet I still screamed, long after my voice ended the silent blood curdling screams still lingered upon the perfect crisp virgin airs that circle me... carried upon the winds of the north, I can hear their eerie howl even now...

The ahn grows late, my hands are numb, lips are by now blue, my eyes burn as they stare at the sister moons, my heart tightens and my stomach churns, my hand clenches tightly until the warmth of blood slowly seeps through my fingers...

In the night in the dark, I am haunted by the Tarn's eyes, the eerie shrill of its hunter's cry... in the distance he looms, seeking, stalking... Standing taller, I raise my head, refuse to cry, refuse to give into the pain, but then the blinding light that strikes me down. To my knees I fall into the fresh snow. Feeling the crystals break under my weight, the give of the snow as it parts and melts around my body's heat... I scream for deliverance... where is my sign... where is my answers...

My spirit does not falter, my heart beats strong... my trust and faith... is reaching the end of its wick... my love bleeds and yet I cannot do anything about it... forever trapped. Bound by a love I gave my self into with a reckless abandonment, I gave into it completely, enough to walk away three times from it, against all my inner cries to stand and sink my claws in, to be the larl, to take what was rightfully mine... but it was a happiness of another that consumed me...

How foolish am I... to love so deeply... was it in vain?? Does he think of me in the dark, do the winds carry the pain of one to his slumber, does he hurt, does he ache... has he found another to take my place... Do I let go here and now and move forward? Do I cling in vain to a love i cannot quit... no matter the challenges, no matter the anguish he has caused me...

Can my heart withstand any more of this torture?? When will I get my answerer's... trapped in the gray mist... I feel the lash of the hooks that prob my skin, tearing my flesh from my very bones, my heart utterly exposed the fire that consumes it, the daggers that cuts it open, it bleeds crimson regret of time lost... of moments gone... Where is my stolen moment?

Am I pushing away what is right in front of me out of fear or out of the need for something... the want for something... do I deserve any part of it...

Oh my mind swarms... the flicker of the candle offers no comfort, no guidance... again my voice lifts to the heavens and I scream, with my arms wide open, my head drawn back, needing to know, just a glimmer of an answer... do I hold on... or do i slip into the dark murky waters that await me...

Head first, or one foot before the other... ignore my heart and follow my mind... neither one are trustworthy, they are as disconnected from one another as if they were severed in the physical realm... my mortal flesh aches with the cold, the numb prickles set in and my body trembles... soon i wont feel the pain, for a moment I will become comfortably numb with in the chambers of my own solitude, of my own pain and agony... where inside shines the beacon of love that is caged...

Perhaps it is a self imposed prison I have placed my self within, waiting for that answer, that olive leaf of peace and hope that rests on the horizon, that there is dry land and reason to believe once again...

Never give up on love, and he will never close his heart to me...? Right... that is what is imprinted upon my journal, by the hand of my slave... perhaps, she in her own right, has some wisdom beyond her tender soul... she sees the pain I conceal with in the depths my heart, how I turn everyone out before they get close... how little I trust even the waking world for the dream state is far more blissful in its agony... what to believe, the wet tears upon my cheeks each morning, the dreams that seem so real I can taste and touch what i so desire and yet cannot have...

Be where I truly wish to be, and yet nothing but the howls of the winds that lick at my window pane, the torture they bring with their hushes innuendos that give me no quarter, no peace comes...

Then I wake to the new dawn and breathe in deep, but the memories are as fierce as the storm driven rains of the tempest that brought them together, and as harsh as what tore them apart... come... happy little dagger, into the bosom you sink, to forever bleed the crimson effects of love that runs as deep and true as the thassa... with all of its mystic perils that will not be foreshadowed... nothing is understandable... logic has no place in love... love is a war with in the heart, and the battle fields are drawn...

May he who desires the strongest be the one who wins... seek my heart and fight the battles with in your own, know me and know love... covet me and know devotion unsurpassed... fail me, and know anguish that will never cease to heal... reopening each and every waking moment, becoming deeper with every restless slumber... to be in love is to be cursed, oh but the need for love drives me like the storm, drawning me to the very source of my pain... confront it, and for once and for all know the truth, seek my answers, demand them... and acceptance for which ever the outcome may be of the battle that will be waged...

When you love someone, you will always love them... it is accepting the fact that you gave your all and did not expect anything in return, and then you will know the true agony of love... to love in vain, and love completely... a reckless addiction for which there is no cure but to be poisoned time and again.

Wings of A Butterfly, HIM

Heaven ablaze in our eyes
We're standing still in time
The blood on our hands is the wine
We offer as sacrifice

[Chorus]
Come on, and show them your love
Rip out the wings of a butterfly
For your soul, my love
Rip out the wings of a butterfly
For your soul

This endless mercy mile
We're crawling side by side
With hell freezing over in our eyes
Gods kneel before our crime

[Chorus]
Come on lets show, them your love
Rip out the wings of a butterfly
For your soul, my love
Rip out the wings of a butterfly
For your soul
(Rip out the wings of a butterfly)
Don't let go
(Rip out the wings of a butterfly)
For your soul

[Chorus]
Come on, and show them your love
Rip out the wings of a butterfly
For your soul, my love
Rip out the wings of a butterfly
For your soul
(Rip out the wings of a butterfly)
Don't let go
(Rip out the wings of a butterfly) [x2]

For your soul

Black Tears

"When I'm in this state of mind I'm wishing I am blind
Sometimes life is more than pain to me
I feel the power of my grief, Death would be such a relief
All the secrets that I hide would die with me

Depression is my only friend. Will this torture never end?
Let me carry on to the dreamers' sky
I keep crying in my dreams. Can you hear my endless screams?
When I fade away I fade, away.

Life is just a masquerade. In dept to myself but I can't pay
Soon I'll call it all a day, away.
I've never felt what you call guilt
I still believe "do what thou wilt"
My sorrow will destroy the world I've built

This fluid on my cheek, it drains me, I get weak
My heart is cold and bleak.. Black blood, black tears"

Spirits...

1st day of Fifth Hand of the Month of Kavars (12) in the year 10,158 CA:


I stand on the deck of the serpent ship that glides gracefully over the currents of the Thassa, I close my eyes and hold my arms out and for once I feel like I am flying solo. So free to breathe deeply the cool air that stings my lungs.

I hear in the distance the sounds that call me, the spirits that lurk, the truth of my blood lines, what makes the soul of me... where my fire comes from...

Finally my heart and mind are both open to listen to them and heed their call.

So come spirit guide... come to a lost soul and give flight to the bird that for to long has been in a gilded cage, captivity has taken its toll. The lost eyes of one that drift in my mind, her voice lingers in my heart, I remember the song, her last song to the infant daughter, the smell of her hair, the warmth of the day, the swaddling blanket that kept me safe from the harsh world...

No longer am I so guarded, now the wool has been lifted, the veil of innocence pierced and I have become jaded to the wonders of the world. No longer does the fire rise in my eyes with just the lift of the winds, no longer does my heart race with a wild beat of a herd of wild kaiila, now it remains steady, still, boring as the bland gray I see the world in...

Where are my colors again, give me thy paint brush and let the erotic colors of the world enthrall me once again... where are my lost visions, guidance, I truly need some... my heart longs for one thing, my soul torn asunder, my mind reining in my passions to keep logic and humility at the cusp... nothing about this life makes sense any longer.

I drift with no cause or purpose any longer... do I still have the healing touch I always carried with me, can I dance the intimate dance with death... oh yes... Death I know you linger, your cold breath upon the back of my neck, as you try to lure me, try and seduce me to your wicked and dark ways. I know the tango in which we dance, the intimate dance you and I share... the dance I refuse to let you lead... the war in which you place in my hands... the blood that stains my memories, the torture that I my self have had to endure to ensure another life was kept from your talons... oh the cold touch of death is so very bone chilling... but have you not been scorned and burned by the Siren's touch...

Death... tonight you will not get to sink your talons into me... tonight you do not get to take me from this world... Once I wished for death, for it would be easier... but let you win... never. I will fight with my very last breath to remain as I am...

From the depths of the murky water I will rise like the Phoenix and again all will be left to catch their breath in awe...

Do not worry for me... I will be all right on my own... it hurt like the pain of a thousand daggers to my heart... and it will hurt worse as it heals, but heal it will... and the pain of a love that scorched my heart wont have the power to drawn me to my knees in an agonizing pain that ripped the screams from my very soul... I will find reasons to dream again. Reasons to hope again... I thought I would never make it past... but I will never doubt my own strength...

Death... Love... War... all are so close... to entwined and so seductive to a passionate woman... my obsession's... my desires... my dreams... tightly do they weave into the very fabric of my life... forever will he pull upon the beat of my heart, drawing me near with the ache that only he can quench... however, I cannot let the addiction continue... I must severe the vein that runs with the poison of love... I must purge my self of it... the war is with in my heart, the death of something that was so untouchable, so pure... so darkly obsessive and possessive... it tore my heart to pieces, and yet it too was the one that healed it... brought the tears of every beautiful human emotion and too drew them away from my cheeks... with a kiss that could kill or set to flight... a touch that could freeze or set aflame...

Can a love like that die... it surly must... for I have felt the bitter cold of Love's pain... and I alone will bare the burden of it... I alone will shoulder the pain that has the power to destroy me, to cripple me, bring me to my weakest point and leave me to my own torturous mind and unforgiving and unyielding love... to know it alone and to take into me all the pain that it has endured and anew find my breath of air....

Where is the breath in my lungs... where is the reason for the beat of my heart, the reason for the passions fire in my soul... where is the hope to dream and the visions to guide...

Great spirits I beg of thee to guide me, conduct your magic and bring me forth to the lands that will give me my strengths once again... lead me into battle with you as my shield and sword... give me the strength to fight and endure what is to come... another chapter another journey in this world...

Little moment

The night creeps and the darkness swallows whole any form of light that was once there... the braziers have been tipped over, the red hot coals are now black ash... nothing, not even a plume of smoke lingers.

I can still feel the heat in my flesh, the burn in my veins, the lightening in my heart, and yet it all grows dim, it all grows dark around me. The rise of the hairs at the back of my neck, that sixth sense that makes you stand on edge, look over your shoulder, question every sound and every shadow that lingers.

In my mind the battle rages, in my heart the bleeding and the anguish lingers. I feel so empty inside, so lost. Like the tempest just faded... the lights of the new dawn do not even thrill me, they do not hold me captive as they once did. It died... or has it?

Is it too late, as the sun finally set upon my heart and its love that burns like a brand, the pain that lingers is like a poison that consumes and strangles, steals my very life's breath and tears my soul at the seams.

The night continues to linger with all of its haunting memories, the sounds that loom, are they real or are they memories of a distant time where everything made sense, and everything was real... has the memory become the reality, or has my reality become my nightmare... will my heart close out love as love has said no to me... love turned me away with the harshest of licks to my flesh like the kiss of a whip I was brought to my weakness, to my darkest fears...

Into the night I ran, into the night I was cast out... oh lingering pain will you give me rest, give me a moments of peace...

Where is my hope... where is my Rarius that will come in and save the Siren, that will allow her call to consume him and fill his heart, place her own brand there and for eternity she will linger...

Where has he gone, will his arms never wrap around me again, in throws of passion and ecstasy or even in the need of comfort, and protection... will his shield and sword never protect me again... will I never look into those eyes and eclipse mine and see right through me?

In the night, you came, like the thief you are... you hid behind my chamber doors and saw something far more rare than any coin value of gems or items... you saw the glimmer, the fire, the spark, you felt in the kiss, and so yielding did the set of lips become against yours.

Fingers slip into your hair and breathe you in, fear rises up, it pricks the vein and the poison seeps again, races and courses through my body, the black inky shadows fill my mind, suffocate my heart, fear to trust again, fear to love, can I... should I... will you?

Your hand over my heart, under your axe do I find protection, in yours hands lay a most fragile and precious gift, will you be the one to crush it to its final death, or will you breathe into it a life, into it the hope... can you mend the broken heart, can you ignite the tempest, the fiery passion, the creature that will steal the breath of the room with a look?

Oh confusion, you dance with me so close, in that intimate embrace that has me tumbling from grace and losing my balance... you rob me of my sense of right and wrong, of my clarity that is rightfully mine... Oh love of old, why do you haunt me and burn me with such intense fires? Can I have no peace, can I have no nights where your eyes do not haunt, where I do not ache and need, where my heart does not falter just a little with the simple memory of you...

Begone from my mind, be gone from my soul, leave me in peace, do not haunt me any longer...oh but such vanity I embrace, thinking my love for you will ever become empty... will ever leave and never torment my very life... Eternity is not long at all... but the pain of eternity however is... and that is what lingers now... that is what dwells deep with in the bosom of a woman... that is the thunder that chases the lightening, that is the smoke plumes from the fires...

Perhaps... one day... I will be able to love you and not hurt, to remember and not cry, to feel and not scream... perhaps one day I will know what it is like to have my peace again... please Odin, let the ice of your lands heal my wounds... they bleed so fierce... allow me the serenity of your lands, let it be my sanctuary where none can hurt me again... protect my heart and bind it in the frozen chains of chastity, never to be plucked and allowed to wither and die...

Imaginary

Oh, paper flowers
Oh, paper flowers

I linger in the doorway
Of alarm clock screaming
Monsters calling my name
Let me stay
Where the wind will whisper to me
Where the raindrops, as they’re falling, tell a story

In my field of paper flowers
And candy clouds of lullaby (flowers)
I lay inside myself for hours
And watch my purple sky fly over me (flowers)

Don’t say I’m out of touch
With this rampant chaos - your reality
I know well what lies beyond my sleeping refuge
The nightmare I built my own world to escape

In my field of paper flowers
And candy clouds of lullaby (flowers)
I lay inside myself for hours
And watch my purple sky fly over me (flowers)

Swallowed up in the sound of my screaming
Cannot cease for the fear of silent nights
Oh, how I long for the deep sleep dreaming
The goddess of imaginary light

In my field of paper flowers
And candy clouds of lullaby (flowers)
I lay inside myself for hours
And watch my purple sky fly over me (flowers)

(Paper flowers)

Slipping under...

The whispering winds come to grace me again, to my sleep they speak to my heart and soul. The air grows colder, I feel the ice crystallize around my heart, the healing bleeds without end. The pain is purging. My mind is comfortably number, and yet the silent screams echo through the night like daggers to the flesh.

I feel the talons of reality slip in and bite into my skin, so harsh is it. It refuses to release me, held captive in those talons that sends my crimson life's blood onto the floor, the aches grow, the tears spill with their cyanide abilities. Burning my flesh, leaving scars upon my cheeks.

How cruel this world truly is, how uncertain everything is. Perhaps I have not felt the kiss of real love, perhaps I have not felt the touch of a love that burns without end, that will never draw a shadow of doubt or second thought. No hesitation, the love that is all consuming and self sacrificing. Perhaps my true love is still out there, perhaps I just had a glimmer in the dark, an eternal flame that I will never apologize for, I will never cover and smite. I will never look down upon, the pain, the love the memories that linger forever, the sirens call that echos through my heart that brings so much with it.

Slowly I feel the drift of the Thassa under the belly of the ship, carrying me home, carrying me back to the lands that still long for me. With arms wide open they will embrace me, the ice and fresh snow is my rebirth. I feel my self slipping under the spell that is the north. That is Odin's land. Your daughter is returning home, too long has she been gone, to long the southern ways have plague me, they robbed me of my icy fire, they stole from me what made me Lorelei...

Your enchanting spell comes over me, into my dreams I slip. My mother watches over me, her spirit guides me to a better place and time... peace will be mine. No longer will I hold my breath and pray it will be me... I know better now. I know that my love is one side, the forever kind of love, that held no hesitation, held no doubt or second thought... Perhaps I am the easier one to purge, the easier one to cast aside like wet news print... and that is all right.

I had two beautiful sons from my womb, and helped raised Garrick as well. I would not trade all our nights together, I would not trade the bad or the good, but I wont stay where I am not the one that holds all his heart. I will go to where I am wanted, where i am needed. Where I can heal and I can become that dark desire again, that fire, the Icy Trovland beauty that stole the breath of all that she ever came in contact with. I will never fall to the poison laced dagger of love again. I will never give my self over to that web of chains again. I refuse to sink to the bottom of the Thassa and then to be said I had a moment of weakness.

I will prevail, I will come out on the top. No one will have that kind of power over me again... not ever.

Cast Away

Helpless... humiliated... ashamed... these are but a few of the emotions I am feeling right now. Told to leave my very home, losing my villa, my place within my home stone's caste, my sons... Odin's beard, my heart bleeds openly for my sons.

Feeling the turbulent rock of the sea under the ship, the distant sound of the drums as the rowers pull us through, the change when the men are pulled in and the sails go up. Even the calm of the Thassa has nothing to offer my aching heart.

In silence I now dwell, there is nothing for me to say, no comfort my kin can bring me, no comfort comes from Calico either. Silence is my constant companion, I refuse to speak, I refuse to face it right now.

Land is in the distance, and there is Erra, she will understand and she will be the only one I speak to. She will understand me where no one else will.

I left in silence, but I want to tear him apart limb from limb. But I refuse to allow anger to win, I refuse to let anything rise up. I wish to be comfortably numb, and blissfully absent.

I gave up my chair in the Gor caste, I am nothing to anyone any more. I am just me... Lorelei... no ones Tempest, no ones love, no ones physician, just a woman wounded and injured. Disappearing from the world's eyes.