Home
In the shadows, the eyes watch restlessly. I look on, hoping all the while against
the inevitable. But my fear gets the better of me, and I start to run. The under
brush scrapes my naked legs and briuses appear instantly on my translucent skin.
But, insane with fear, I do not acknowledge them, nor do I slow my ever-quickening pace.
I am tearing through the forrest now, heedless of the quickening darkness approaching.
I hide in the hollows of trees, the ever-comforting trees, my long-lost brothers.
they give me comfort until I can no longer stand being in one place any longer,
and I leave to seek a new seclusion.
The moon guides my path now, to a safe place in the dark, where none shall come but those
who remember. Those who are now dead. Those who wish to be.
Little do I know, that which I most fear is only a hope for death. And so it follows
me to the tiniest, most hated part of myself, my own heart. My own being.
Followed home to my heart, followed home to my fear, followed home to my death.
My death, it comes like a friend, but that which I had feared until I knew.
I could never know the sweetness of this poisen, until it followed me home.
Back to the Shelf
email: Giselle | Guestbook | Castle Libram |
Blue
Win My Awards | Meadow | Gallery | The Falls of Agelade | Resources