The Coven of Purgatory

''Of course the only thing that kills the demon... is love...''
Set at 12:55 on June 24, 2009

Vampire Rave member for 15 years.

Status:  Revenant (41.10)
Rank:  Member
Honor 0    [ Give / Take ]
Affiliation:  The Coven of Purgatory
Account Type:  Regular
Gender:  Female
Birthdate:  Hidden
Age:  Hidden




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Someone once told me that what doesn't kill me, will make me so much stronger. Well he damn well near killed me, so does that now make me invincible?

love's horse Pictures, Images and Photos

First and foremost, I must warn you- I am a stupidly happy, chirpy, cheery, lively person, in love with life itself, and it does tend to rub off on people :-) (except for when I get accused of being 'too enthusiastic' on a nearly daily basis :-p.

I admit it- I LOVE living- it's just so much fun!!! I've never understood the whingers I meet.
If life kicks you in the balls, you GET BACK UP WITH A SMILE. I promise- it always works :-) I swear- I've been to the gates of hell several times now- I'm happier than ever. It just makes you appreciate the things you DO have..

Enigma- Gravity of Love

The experience of survival is the key
To the gravity of love
The path of excess leads to
The tower of Wisdom
Try to think about it ...
That's the chance to live your life and discover
What it is, what's the gravity of love

Well, I am most definately a country lass- I'm never happier than when I'm cantering up a mountain on my ickle horsey in a gale force wind :-) (or blundering through a bog in my wellies with my spaniel!!).

I enjoy my guns, it's true, and I do enjoy taking my dog beating, its very rewarding working as a partnership with my wee beasties..

>I am the very loving owner of a brilliant little thoroughbred x irish draught, he throws his heart into everything asked of him, even if he finds it incredibly difficult, and I am definately stupidly lucky to have such a chappie..

by W. H. Auden

Lay your sleeping head, my love,
Human on my faithless arm;
Time and fevers burn away
Individual beauty from
Thoughtful children, and the grave
Proves the child ephemeral:
But in my arms till break of day
Let the living creature lie,
Mortal, guilty, but to me
The entirely beautiful.

Soul and body have no bounds:
To lovers as they lie upon
Her tolerant enchanted slope
In their ordinary swoon,
Grave the vision Venus sends
Of supernatural sympathy,
Universal love and hope;
While an abstract insight wakes
Among the glaciers and the rocks
The hermit's carnal ecstasy.

Certainty, fidelity
On the stroke of midnight pass
Like vibrations of a bell
And fashionable madmen raise
Their pedantic boring cry:
Every farthing of the cost,
All the dreaded cards foretell,
Shall be paid, but from this night
Not a whisper, not a thought,
Not a kiss nor look be lost.

Beauty, midnight, vision dies:
Let the winds of dawn that blow
Softly round your dreaming head
Such a day of welcome show
Eye and knocking heart may bless,
Find our mortal world enough;
Noons of dryness find you fed
By the involuntary powers,
Nights of insult let you pass
Watched by every human love.


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Enigma- Silence Must Be Heard

Look into the others eyes, many frustrations
Read between the lines, no words just vibrations
Don't ignore hidden desires
Pay attention, you're playing with fire
Silence must be heard, noise should be observed
The time has come to learn, that silence ...
Silence must be heard
Or diamonds will burn, friendly cards will turn
Cause silence has the right to be heard
People talk too much for what they have to say
Words without a meaning, just fading away
Silence must be heard, noise should be observed
The time has come to learn, that silence ...
Silence must be heard
Or diamonds will burn, friendly cards will turn
Cause silence has the right to be heard

Epitaph on a Tyrant
by W. H. Auden

Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after,
And the poetry he invented was easy to understand;
He knew human folly like the back of his hand,
And was greatly interested in armies and fleets;
When he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter,
And when he cried the little children died in the streets

Bleeding Eyes Pictures, Images and Photos

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From 'The Rime of the Ancient Mariner'

'Her lips were red, her looks were free,
Her locks were yellow as gold :
Her skin was as white as leprosy,
The Night-mare LIFE-IN-DEATH was she,
Who thicks man's blood with cold.'


I do admit, I LOVE to read :-) I usually spend almost every spare moment that i have with a book in my hand :-).

Some of the authors in particular which have influenced me over the years would be:.

David (And sometimes Leigh) Eddings.
George R Martin.
Anne Rice.
Bernard Cornwell.
Trudi Canavan.
Lois McMaster Bujold.
Fiona McIntosh (Her 'The Quickening' trilogy has to be the best story I have ever read.).
Helen Hollick
Russell Whitfield
Sean Russell

I've come to the fairly recent conclusion that whilst I read (and continue to read) many, many books, those which truely capture my imagination are those which capture the essence of hopelessness, but continuing to hope regardless.

Those which tell of love, and unfathomable loss.

Of pain, and unattainable (or short-lived) joy.

Life, and complete and utter hopelessness.

I must admit, occassionally I find myself on the verge of tears because a character I have admired is killed or injured and a brutal brutal way.

They give me hope.


The Pianist
Inglorious Basterds
Boy in the Striped Pjamas
Shakespeare in Love
Run Lola Run
Ichi the Killer



Supernatural (ooh Jensen Ackles baby yeah!!!)
Father Ted
Sex and the City
Vicar of Dibley
Desperate Romantics
Band of Brothers
Family Guy
American Dad


From out the wild woods ringing.
A bullet pierced my true love's side
In live's young spring so early.
And on my breast in blood she died
While soft winds shook the barley.
But blood for blood without remorse
I've ta'en at oulart hollow.
I've lain my true love's clay like corpse
Where I full soon must follow.
Around her grave I've wandered drear
Noon, night, and morning early.
With breaking heart when e'er I hear
The wind that shakes the barley.

Dead Can Dance- How Fortunate The Man With None

You saw sagacious Solomon
You know what came of him,
To him complexities seemed plain.
He cursed the hour that gave birth to him
And saw that everything was vain.
How great and wise was Solomon.
The world however did not wait
But soon observed what followed on.
It's wisdom that had brought him to this state.
How fortunate the man with none.
You saw courageous Caesar next
You know what he became.
They deified him in his life
Then had him murdered just the same.
And as they raised the fatal knife
How loud he cried: you too my son!
The world however did not wait
But soon observed what followed on.
It's courage that had brought him to that state.
How fortunate the man with none.
You heard of honest Socrates
The man who never lied:
They weren't so grateful as you'd think
Instead the rulers fixed to have him tried
And handed him the poisoned drink.
How honest was the people's noble son.
The world however did not wait
But soon observed what followed on.
It's honesty that brought him to that state.
How fortunate the man with none.
Here you can see respectable folk
Keeping to God's own laws.
So far he hasn't taken heed.
You who sit safe and warm indoors
Help to relieve our bitter need.
How virtuously we had begun.
The world however did not wait
But soon observed what followed on.
It's fear of god that brought us to that state.
How fortunate the man with none

Member Since: Jun 21, 2007
Last Login: Oct 29, 2015
Times Viewed: 10,454

Times Rated:799

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Nov 13, 2021
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Jun 24, 2021

I have rated you fairly & wish you a good afternoon/evening.

Apr 22, 2021

Your rate depends on content. A low rate wihen there is nothing there after a week, a high rate when I can read something about you and profile completed. Well come back to re rate if needed.

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