END OF THE OPERA

Charles crouched over Diana, holding her limp in his arms.

Another explosion erupted behind him, and crouched more over her, feeling the heat wave and pieces of concrete spattering off of him.

His scarlet overcoat smoked as the heat settled, and he looked down at her face.

It was pale, her eyelids shut. Her lips were limp and she had a peace about her face. A moment before she was in agony from the bullet-wound. Now she was as calm as if she were merely sleeping.

Come back the desert cried

back from the the fleeting darkness.

the winds did howl like banshee beings

The desert worbled and wailed

for Mary O'graida

would not return

she though not dead had wandered

far, far

I fold my shameful wings

and pray that no one may see

what I hide.

 Dark stains taint the purity of what was.

  Wings hurl, averse to savage winds,

  which change wings to a form

  worn and aged by endless use.

  They do not return unscathed by storms;

   wet salt is thrown against what was dry.

  I mourn immaculate dove-white wings

  which have been altered to a wanderer's feathers,

  because I know their fate;

    to  be submerged yet again by torrents

    which rise against me.

This childlike desire to run on my own,

Has dragged me down to a world without warmth.

Can’t walk on my own as well as I thought I could…

“Hello, hello, hello in there. I see the pain that you have inside.”

“Would you like a pill…to make you better?”

This childlike desire to run on my own,

Has dragged me down to a world so cold.

Can’t walk on my own as well as I though I could…

I lean on a brittle cane.

Unsteady,

Deformed.

Dedicated to Old Fashioned Girl. Merry Christmas :)

~*~ 

The room stirred and Ally stared at the back of the hall along with everyone else. One of her friends whispered in her ear but she didn’t know what was said. There he was, at the door. Slowly, he looked around at the gathering. It was as if he met the eye of every single person. Ally certainly felt like she had connected, if only for the barest second, with him and that he had seen every part of her self.

Now this is an unedited draft of the first chapter of my book Antrium: REDEMPTION.

Chapter 1: WolfBlade…

Those eyes I see, in the dead of night.
Those eyes I fear will be my demise.
Their red burning in the dead of night
Their white lining glowing like moonlight so fine.
I try to decline
Those eyes so malciouse
His teeth sharp and rigid
Those eyes like fire from hell
Now it is easy to see why so many fell
Into his prison of char and brimstone
A thousands souls never burning alone
Those eyes so cold
Those eyes so bold
They keep me down like a burden on my back
My hope to attack
But I can't do that