For a moment, my veins were on fire
Alight with Your power and might.
I had been swept by the threat of the Enemy’s wings;
His beauty, his torment, his plight
You will die, he whispered to me
Very soon, and painfully.
I know not what he expected, nor
What singing fear was rebuked.
But the threats did not sting
For my heritage brings
Courage; the heartiest thing.
I SNARLED “so be it then,
I’ll die as I lived,
Shouting praise to the King!”
For He does not bow to your suffering.
I felt again, your presence came
Your warmth renewed, no longer ash
In my arms, not seizing, not shrieking
Soft and living… safe once more
But you are gone. Each new breath, empty morning
You are torn from me fresh, the
Wound never closing.
Will I ever get used to your absence?
WILL I EVER STOP WISHING YOU WEREN’T GONE?
I almost pray you’d stop coming to me
Allow the blood to congeal
But if the only way you can be
Means me weeping over you in my sleep
Then bring me the dreams.
I dreamed about her… dreamed she was still alive… that she had beaten death some how… I could still hold her… she was still warm, strong, here….
Uncertain future, tumbling past
I will not shrink back, I will not relax
Shivering memories, glittering dreams
Someday I’ll steal myself some peace.
I’m exhausted and
My dreams were dark.
Another night has passed
Filled with my mind’s
Another morning breaks
To tell me the shadows that creep upon my bed
I told you I would call, regardless of the hour
Should you leave by darkest gate
Within my dreaming sour;
And yet as others passed by, doomed
My dreams in some way knew;
No matter what my lips professed,
I cared not (greatly) if you left;
For I did not love you.
They’ll come for me again
In the dark.
When I close my eyes
My dreams teem with the undead
Choices I have yet to make and
Faces that return from decades passed
Loom at out me through crooked ruins.
I am a seeker of stories through the night
I live the fear so I may learn to write.
Dreams are a constant blessing to me
They remind my heart what is significant
By contrasting what is not.
I give thanks to the dream-weaver…
I give also nighttime and a blank slate.