cryptomancer Posted August 8, 2010 Report Posted August 8, 2010 That beautiful minion of the Fates, catalyst of my creation, All changes wrought by her hand or form, So subtle the influence, yet lasting the effects, Breaking things I though resistant, awakening potentials within. My art, my life, my ability to see, beauty, Simple beauty unsurpassed in all that is close to me, Yet her role was played, full measure of love’s essence, And Macbeth’s stage now echoes, lonely, empty, in her absence. The gift she has given hangs upon new walls, Art of the Fates, measured in the breaths I took with her, Awoken in the time apart, and now never will she see, All she changed in me.
cryptomancer Posted August 8, 2010 Author Report Posted August 8, 2010 Return unto nature that which belongs to nature, Take the fate of time’s destructive path embracing its anger, Soak in the heavens the lightless wanderer, Waxen moons waning to black as upon the sun they turn their back. Woven sheets of dust and ice, dancing slow circles swung by chance, The touch of that light is too strong, not so strong as it once was.
Recommended Posts