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a gentile wind billows through my hair



with the smell of the towering pines



that glows above from the sky so high



through the trees the light doth shine



a howling in the distance crys my name



and i turn to follow the call



flying through the air on a moonlight beam



with a swiftness to shame all



my tainted fingers reach out for the shadow



that haunts the ground below



i fall in your arms in a shimmering light



and bathe you in my flourescent glow



the glimmer of teeth and metallic taste



your raking claws aginst pale skin



fill my mind with the thought of you



the rumble of your voice draws me in



the lust for blood, desire and love



quenched by our becoming one



two screams in the night, the moon bursts to flame



shining brighter than the sun



silence once more, Luna glows once again



two creatures embrace, nothing said



those far off gaze up and wonder



why the moon glows crimson red

the rage is despersed,not dead and gone, but laid to rest like all things past that hurt seems to sprout from. the roots have rotted away, wattered to the point of drowning by the feeding to foo much thought. that happens far too often, but not quite as often as when thorny brush grows from the fermanted remains. the briars are like thier actions, sticking to my heart, tearing away at it...but i cant feel the pain, because it has been trapped and nubled by thier fingers, clutching to it like a child to its comfort bear.



but the rest of be trickles from between the spaces of thier hand,like water inching its way through a forrest ablaze with inferno. i flow from thier grasp; my mind and body no longer slaves to thier subconsious manipulations. tragedy has befallen them, but my heart has bled what it can. for even oceans have limits, boarders, coasts it canot wash over, lines it cannot cross.



and with these limits, i can now declair my freedom. my need for an opposite attracts them, but although fire and water can make amazing steam, life has now begun to boil over. the flames of anger have provoked evaporation. i am floating above thier petty arguments and futile fights and as long as they burn below me, i will not come back down.



i could rain on thier parade, thier endless bickering and nagging. i could also smash a masterpeice to smitherines. they are them, she is she, he is he and nothing can change that, just as none can bring me down as they have so meraculously accomplished doing. so i take charge now. i will not fight this wildfire. such beauty deserves to go on, but i can no longer attempt to tame the wild, snarling beast that is this.



so let all of you fevers rage, fan your flames, burn down every rooted tree who tries to befreind you. someday you will loose kindling, burn out, and new life will spring forth from where you once caused destruction.



i hope to see that day.

Thou foul succubis.



thou belial in thine own shadow



your carnage of chocolate may spill decidantly



like roses and wine



but such has litle strength over my person.



and to think i once saw crimson for white



pondering tongues spoken betwixt were perhapse sweet



suculant like the dragon fruit.



But be they dragons as dragons will be,



and you are but a she-devil



whom commands such beasts within the soul



of cerulean, aquamarine and royal skies.



As was Ragnarok for my emerald fair



and emerald fair grows grass greener than any other



so shal be armaggeddon for yuou.



he saw me crying in the window of my own depth



a bottomless pit of writhing maggotry



tunnel vision burdened be



by the heart soul and subtile energies of the world beyond my memory



from death by steel and turquois oceans to forrests of serpentine



and in that moment



i saw blood red



but what of blood is as satisfying as the life it sustains.



the heartbeat shared in one body between two souls suddenly



singular.



the window opened to the light and i saw you



and darkess as darkness does, consumed the first miracle of god



and wrapped fates lithe malliable form in a shroud of protection



swallowing his own yang, casting out thou beelzebub



and assumed his rightful place.



the single heartbeat sinchronizes by nature to the first grasping spirit.



but what of more tangiable things?



you shant meed them as you float amongst us



but a drowning man, sinking in a bottomless ocean



the trixter has not tricked his last.



but he has found his match in me.