Lunar Pulse: Chapter TwoChapter Two: Phantom Mate
Clouds drifted in the red of the sky and Hunters strides were no more than a breeze that shifted the first fallen leaves from the end of the Ardens season. He walked without regard to his surroundings; he had lived as a lone wolf in this forest for most of his life, having been shunned from the pack for the colors of his eyes, keeping the company of only his mate, Claire, and his parvus.
He stood then on the sloping bank of a stream, where he had first seen Claire. She was beautiful, her silver coat and her jet black markings were nowhere near as breathtaking as her eyes. They were as deep red as the setting sun, and tinged with the hues of a violet bloom. Her strides were graceful, and her stature lean and powerful, bred for the passion of the hunt. She was mysterious and distant, loyal and loving. Yet she was trapped by this forest, always lost in the sky, or in the clear waters of the stream.
Hunter gazed down into the reflections of the eyes that he had on
BareTwo hearts thud slightly off beat. Two chests pressed close, bare.Bare3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Fingertips in all their subtlety, Brush ever so gently across
A blushing cheek. Eyes close, Tongues dance behind thirsty lips,
And trembling lungs draw quickly at heated air.
Bodies plead in Silent longing. Tongue-brushed lips
Caress one another. Limbs intertwine, seductive
Words exchanged with each Lingering touch.
Their breaths between them interchange form one chest
To the other. Wandering hands evoke tiny sounds
That slip under breath between timid lips.
Bodies tremble, unaware and afraid,
Driven by impulse, feeding from the urge.
Two hearts thud slightly off beat and two chests press close,
sense and sensesMy tongue drips wet with gentle lyricssense and senses3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
from a passionate soul.
My heart beats strong through the choking,
Burning heat of sorrow.
My fingertips paint the world transparent with words,
Both tender and rough.
My eyes speak ethereal, aching, and silent triumph
Over societal acceptance.
My feet hold ground through the stampede:
ruthless, mindless masses.
My ears ache under the pressing chaos
That constantly invades.
Philosophy or stream of consciousnessCan I not partake of the fruit of life itself and live believing the lies that everyone else is meant to take whole heartedly and never question?Philosophy or stream of consciousness3 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
Is it philosophy or is it rampant rambling of random realities that, I remember, are not real, but rather representations of repressed emotion?
With open eyes I belittle my own beliefs, believing that the belly of the beast, which I am meant brutally to slay, is brought upon us from behind. It is beneath benevolence. Or is it above?
Not quite intentionally, I inspire myself with inquisitions about the inherently invented world, in which this individual race places itself on a pedestal of inexplicable power.
It is a pedestal that prevents the pretentious people from assessing honestly their predisposed reign of power.
I am meant to slay that malevolent creature which, with malice, made its way into the marvelous and makeshift, meaningless hearts of meaningful people.
The majority of them pretending merry, and misinterpreting the meaning meant
How she loves youHer skin relishes your touchHow she loves you2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And her lips whispers softly in your ear
How she loves you.
Her body is yours to keep,
Protect, and love.
She wants to take care of you
Like a mother tends her child.
But her love for you is so much more,
More passionate, and heavy.
She loves to see you smile;
She loves it when you laugh.
How her heart beats when you hold her close!
That hollow cavity that once held a shattered heart
Is now filled by her undying passion
That burns for