Samara Mistress of Dark Mist stood at the topmost tower of her keep and watched the knight approach. For but a second she entertained the thought of instructing the gate keeper to shut the portoculis closed, but she had given her word and her word was a sacred thing. She drew her cloak close and descended with something akin to fear in her great heart. As the knight and his riders bowed before her, Samara felt the weft of fate changing. She lifted her grey gaze and found him pleasing. He was life wrought and truth soothed! Samara was an old soul and she didnot see a space to change neither weft nor way of him, she merely observed him. She bid him welcome to the kingdom and at the welcome feast she sat at her customary place aceeding him the seat to her left: the seat reserved for her lord.

She listened and spoke, she laughed often and gloried in his answering smile. As she rose, he handed her his sword, Samara felt something stir inside her. She who had handfasted marriages for so many of her friends, was she fated to have her own story. Samara offered him, the hospitality of the great castle, and bade him welcome in all quaters but the topmost tower. If the Knight felt her words strange he showed neither sign now sigil of it. He merely took his leave and left Samara to hopeful dreams under a spangled sky. The next days passed in a slow waltz of knowing, of showing and revealing as Samara and the knight danced around the idea of themselves as one. Every soul in the great keep thrilled to see their mistress smile and hear her laugh. Then one morning the Knight said to Samara: ' perhaps a lighter cloak would be more becoming?'

And Samara wanting to draw his smile abandoned the dark cloak of custom for the colours of spring. Then a few more days and the Knight said to Samara: perhaps the great sword is not a weapon for a lady to wear? And Samara wanting to keep his eye left her ceremonial blade in the tower. Soon his requests became daily, and whilst Samara would give him the stars out the night skies should he desire them, She soon wondered if there was aught in her face, character or spirit that the Knight loved. For he was ever after her faults, tallying and prescribing them, until one day he asked: Samara I would see the top most room of the highest tower.

Samara looked upon the knight she was slowly coming to love and she turned the lock on the door. Inside the room under delicate glass and wrought in delicate silks was the magical heart of Darkmist, knotted and wrapped in the mysteries of time, Samara's heart for without it, she and her land would wither and die. She lifted the cover and for the first time, she gave her beating exquisite aching heart into the care of the Knight. The Knight gazed at it for but a second, then his eyes fell upon the other treasure piled about the tower, and the Knight asked: Samara you speak of love yet you would not share this treasure with me?' So saying he put down the heart and hefted the jewels strewn about the room. Samara glanced at him, and she noted the fine fine cracks forming on the heart of Darkmist. Here he was her Knight, the one she chose. Samara called for her men and asked them to fill saddle bags with gold and make ready for the Knight to go.

Samara turned to him and she said: 'I let you walk in the halls of my fathers and share in the warmth of my mothers blessings, I nurtured dreams and hopes for your greatness above mine own. I who shunned the company of men, would have given you the comfort of my skin and the legacy of a son. I would offer my soul in your place and tonight I give you my heart, yet you do not see! You seek to unmake me and not to delight in what I am.'

So saying her tears icy on her cheeks, Samara turned from him and from the very tower where she had watched him come with hope dancing in her heart, she watched him leave.                       

The Knight sought for years after to return to Darkmist, to seek Samara's counsel yet try as he may, he could never find his way back. One cold night at the edge of a dark wood, where he was sure Darkmist had once stood, he saw a small woman tending a fire. He hailed her and she bid him welcome. As they shared a meal in the misty cold, talk turned to Darkmist.

 And the sad eyed woman looked to place where the Knight was sure Darkmist stood: 'it is a dark tale, my lord They say some careless boy broke the Lady's heart into a million pieces and she could no longer live in the mortal realm.'

 The Knight knew the careless boy! 'Can she never return?'.     

'Without her heart, she is but a shadow thing, she will never come again'.                                    

The Knight felt tears on his cheeks as the old woman looked to the night sky.                

 'They say her voice is heard of the night of waning moons, they say she sings of pain and hurt'.                                                

 The Knight closed his eyes and waited for the sound of Samara's voice but alas she never sang to him.

Falling

'Heaven's gates won't open up for me

With these broken wings I'm fallin'

And all I see is you

These city walls ain't got no love for me I'm on the ledge of the eighteenth story And oh I scream for you Come please I'm callin'

And all I need from you

Hurry I'm fallin', I'm fallin'.   

               

Barantheon spread her arms out and glanced at the toy small city below her, even here the sounds reaching her ears of noise, of things lost, of things found, of the million things that would not mourn her going. She knew her wings would not carry her, she was not all she had been, yet as she contemplated the tall walls of the city that had become her prison cell.

She stared her destiny in its face and smiled. She was a singular beast and the fates would not destroy her, she would die as she had lived: free and wild. Her thoughts turn to home but she knew the gates of heaven would not open to one as damaged as her, one who had made peace with her darkness. She thought of him, his emerald gaze, her one mistake her mortal sin, the only thing she would travel through time for: one chance to soothe his bronze skin, to feel truly alive and whole in his arms, to taste immortality as she loved him but such was the stuff of dreams and she did not have time for dreams. Her shattered heart did not grant her the luxury.

When He had turned from her, something had died inside her soul. She became this thing with no right to exsist. Barantheon freed her hair and watched it whip in the wind. She looked the hole inside her marked with the word alone and she smiled at last the pain would end.

She breathed deep and leapt into oblivion and peace. As she fell she closed her eyes envisioning him, her light prince, the only one who had dared love her. Through a thousand wars a million times she had rose, but his betrayal had killed her, they may call it suicide but it was murder.

Amatheon felt the brush of something cold against his soul, and he ran faster still, he prayed he found her, her his lady whole. He berated himself a thousand times for his fear! He could still feel her as he pushed through the crowded streets he wondered what the masses had gathered to crow about, then all of a sudden she was gone. His connection to her servered as he pushed his way through the crowd his blood ran cold for there in the centre of the rabble her turquoise cloak spread out around her, lay Barantheon quite still her lifes blood pulsing out her veins as she died.

He sank to his knees, after his betrayal, after all the pain he had given her, she had struck the death blow and gone from him. He would never hear her voice again, never glory in her fine skin, never see the love that made him afeared at first light her brown eyes. Amatheon drew his broadsword, and before the crowd could stop him, he sheathed it in his body. He looked at her as the skies grew grey and his body grow cold, he may have been a fool in his life, but in death he was wise.

He would follow his lady, through hell or into the heavens of the Summerlands. This time no fear would come between them. . .                

 That night else where in Illyria, a wise man watching the stars noted two new stars in the night sky, glowing sure and steady next to each other. . .he noted it on his charts and coming as he had from the tragic funeral of Illyria's crown prince and his warrior queen. . .he called them The Lovers. . . 

Who loves a warrior. . .

Let he who dares love a warrior know her scars and her victories

May he have courage to stand before her enemies and warmth to embrace her friends

 Let he who dares love a warrior know her darkness and her light

May he have faith enough to remain by her side and let her fly when she needs

Let he who dares love a warrior know her soul and her skin

 May he have fire enough to fuel her desire and warm her home

 Let he who dares love a warrior know her words and her silence

 May he have dark enough to indulge her sins and light enough to embrace her virtue

Let he who dares love a warrior know her honor and her loyalty

May he have hope enough when she seeks free and joy enough when she seeks he

 Let he who dares to love a warrior know her armour and her softness
Let he who dares to love a warrior celebrate his fate. . .
Let he who dares to love a warrior Let he who dares
Let he

moon

I would the moon would enfold itself in the tresses of night, that its liquid pearlescent glow would not coat my skin, that its pearly light did not transfuse my self to enchantment.
I would that the stars would snuff out one by one, that some one would fill the cracks in the sky so heavens light did not sneak out through the rents in heaven's fabric. Starlight would no longer incite me to wish wishes so filled with want that my very soul ached even I spoke them.
I would that poets had no inspiration, that words would cease to be, no rhythm no words that spoke the coil of feeling hiding beneath my sensible gaze. No words to inflame my senses, no enrapping spells of rapture.
I would that music would cease to be, no low intimate strains, grandiose waltzes leaving my arms aching to find shoulders they fit. No rhythms I felt with my hips and drums that moved my toes.
I would that He had made us in twos like matched throwing daggers, with even surer aim to finding our mate. That I was not always walking and fighting great wars, that a strong arm would hold mine, a warm embrace would take me home and this one would finally see
I would that I hadn't this want, that a merciful hand would reach inside me and swiftly suffocate this appetite which is now a hunger pang starvation
Murder my desire and blind my longing that I may finally find peace. .
I would that all was still.
I would that all was still.

The dark is the deepest when you go.
The lights trip and I am all alone.
Out sprawl my monsters.
Whispered taunts and they flaunt my sins
Naming each one.
They claw me open.
They draw my tears.

The dark is deepest when you go.
The lights trip and I must move on.
I know this place.
I know the corners.
I skim the heights.
Inch by inch.
I silence their screeches.
Its airless, its vacum.

The dark is deepest when you go.
And you've been gone too long.
I am slaying my demons.
I've traded on my dreams.
Jaded eyes see more than before.
My hands not searching for you any more.

The dark is deepest when you go.
and now I hope you never return.
Another beast awaits you here.
Never descend.
I am a darkling thing.
Of claw and scale.
A monster now.
And in my prowl.
Yours is the scent I hunt . . .
The dark is deepest where I lurk.
And beasts find a new queen

Once Upon Time

Once upon a time
I was a girl
You were a boy
Us with out we
Once upon a time
The girl gave the boy a lantern and took him on a journey into the maze of her making. In the wild abandon of her journey, through the doors of her making,the boy saw her soul. She was un afraid and unjaded. They were unfettered by care and in their high secret whispering there were no rules. His skin was her skin and his soul was her soul...
Once Upon a time
I was a woman
You were a man
You had one name
I had mine
Once upon a time
The girl who became the woman was jaded. Her belief flew from her and her heart was an icy place. The wild pleasure of nightime whispers and faded memories invade her dreams but her waking self shrugs them off. The boy who became the man walked his paths with other women. Traveling their paths until his footsteps grew faint in the dust...
Once Upon a Time
I was me
You were you
Once upon a time
The woman who was the girl met the man who was the boy...
She looked in his eyes and years flew from her. The man who was the boy watched what the woman had become and at once he wished to keep her..
Once Upon a Time
I was here
You were Gone
The woman reached for the hand of the man. In her grip only air.

Beastly

I throw my head back for the amber moon
Sprawling in to the shadows
Stalking starlight
Sheltered by the night
Undulating, sinuous scaly
Venom tongued
Poison kiss
Flowing in your veins
Clawing you open
Feasting on my find
I Lay lunar blanket
Sated but emboldened
Insatiable
After the first I know
Your scent in the herd
God crafted
With pure intent
Seven sin spun
I am
Once
Iam
Always
Original temptation
The low drumbeats
My heart sounds
Past the end
Of this wild place
Into the ordered peace
Your heart
Falling like the damned
Spiral into chaos
So far from
Being lost