Can the truths that the winds 
reveal be trusted?
Or is it all a game of telephone?
Which begs the question - 
Can the winds be trusted
to know our truths? 
Can I stand in a field 
and confess my fears
without the fear
of the wind telling the trees? 
 

Frozen eyes with snow covered lashes,
Light blue, ice cold.
Frozen lives frozen in snow,
As the wind barrels against the bodies.
Shadows penetrating through 
All the jagged cracks
In the sky,  
In the crown,
In the ice that we stand on 
Oh, so faithfully.

I write to release the ghosts.
The ghosts of my ancient soul, and the apparitions that lie in the mist ahead.

I write to immortalize the past.
Everything that happened, and everything you said to me.

I write to create a haven, a safe place.
Away from the jurisdiction and ridicule of all those who do not understand. 

I write to reveal the truth.
What it all really meant, who you were behind the mask.

I write to fulfill my dream...

The smell of sulfur rises from the Earth
as ash settles across her paper thin skin.
Her singed hair is in tangles, knotted through and through, and her face is dirty, covered in soot. Pale fingers still grasp the hilt of her blood encrust sword and blackened shield. I pry her fingers off of the weapons...they won't be of anymore use to her. Carefully, I pick her limp body up into my arms and...I swear, oh so slightly, I can...

He had found the mare near the stream,
Lapping water that reflected moonlight.
She was beautiful, with a coat the color of clay.
She was unclaimed.
By all right of property, she was his to ride.

But he gave the poor horse a fright,
When he saddled her unsaddled back, 
For the very first time.
She was always as free as the wind,
Not used to being bridled.

He was not used to it either,
For he hadn't owned a...

Sometimes I just wish,
To cease to exist,
To be thrown into
The sandpit Of time.
To just sink to the ground,
Of this earth that was found,
By aliens, or gods,
Long ago.
 

It’s almost 5am,
And I haven’t slept at all.
I keep thinking of you,
My Brightly Colored Muse.
Keeping me awake, 
In this pitch dark room.
I’m thinking of our future,
Of my future,
Of everything that I am,
And every little thing that I am not.
What am I doing?
What do I want?
I’m so happy.
But so miserable.
So confused.
So blue.
And then there’s you - 
Who I love -
Who I need - 
Who I am...

Open your eyes,
My fresh water lily,
Commander of the
Water that falls from the skies,
And take in the sweet syrup,
That strengthens your 
Petals of ivory and gold, 
And wear your crown,
Proudly, My fresh water lily