It was the first, last, and only day it ever rained on the colony. Even then, it wasn't anywhere near a full day of rain. It rained an hour- maybe –before they managed to bring in a new Weather C.O.N.T.R.O.L. (Climate Of New Terra Registrator and Open Land) System. The Terra Nova Governments had been furious with Tamra, but she could have cared less; they'd never punish her. The incident stood as her only source of amusement and accomplishment.
"Yes, I'm behaving." Tamra feigned innocence over the Vidcomp to any misgivings her mother had about the "mess" she may have gotten into, and any other "nonsense mischief" she might have perpetrated.
"It's raining again. I remembered how much you loved the rain, so I thought I'd call." Her mother said softly.
"Lexis is home." Tamra responded tonelessly. Her expressionless blue eyes reflected her brother's entrance into their apartment; he gave her a mischievous grin as a greeting. She waved with all her paleness and black hair.
"Oh! Well, I'm gl
All Hallow's EveI used to believe that
when the ground was cold
and the leaves were as vibrant
as any other autumn day
that there were evil creatures
close by, but I never really knew.
But now there's a silence marked here,
a silence brought by fearful things:
bare trees and flying ghosts,
black cats and coloured smoke-
these are the scary tales
that the rest of the year forgets.
But today is their day.
The day for hobgoblins,
The day for the Dybbuk,
The vampire, the werewolf-
Today is their day.
Cutting into the darkness,
the wails and screeches
reach the ears of young children
hands grubby, pink-tipped noses
greedy eyes and bags of candy
they shriek back, delighted.
Nothing is frightening enough
and so, the ashamed monsters
crawl back into their fairy tales.
MediaHollowed out rooms full of shadows and death-
Empty box carts carrying empty souls-
Painful memories with hurt and torment-
Painful injuries with sharpened breath-
At the edge of insanity- can one still be sane enough?
The wasted days of summer with hurting souls inside
A poster, a poster- with a dancing girl
Beauty is thinning- one is ugly otherwise.
Empty houses and coldness, spoken meaningless throughout
The mirror is calling, just take a glance and be wise...
And just ask yourself- do you like what you see?
Shadow-LoverMy heart is beating in my chest,
but love, don't take it yet-
my shadow-lover, is that you?
But I can't give it up, not yet...
Shadow lover bring me to light,
but love, don't take it yet-
I hear you calling out my name,
but you shan't have me yet...
The words you speak a frigid cold,
your fingers spread and white-
My dark black hair to fading grey,
if I give up my fight.
Your promises become a dividing line,
your breath so shallow and cold.
Silver skin under darkest cloak-
a kiss so sickening, sweet and bold.
This match a deadly one you see,
it is the night's last wish my dear-
"Don't court the Shadow-lover-
He'll hide you in his fear.."
I did not heed her warning-
but I did not fail to see.
I listened to my heart's content,
and spoke little, if- verily.
The darkness choked my words;
the wind, it stung mine eyes.
The heroes of all fairy's tales
Escaped through stitched-up lies.
I feel his presence right beneath me
As I look up to the moon
His claws dig into my shoulders
As I tremble; s
The Kelhai LullabyFair maidens eyes, you do me wrong,
to stay there soft and dismiss my song.
You do not hear, and you do not see
that my heart is awaiting your memory.
Come back to light and don't shy away;
we've got all the eve, and all the day.
Fair maiden's heart, you steer me untrue;
you bat your eyelashes, smile eyes of blue.
You cannot tell what I feel for thee,
and so come back and join in my memory.
Your song the one that can do no ill,
your words touch my heart and defeat them still;
the secret enchantment to banish all
that may cause you harm and make empire fall.
In a Twisted Little TownThere's a twisted little town with houses tall and thin.
'Sits an ordinary girl with a temperamental grin,
And she sees all around her; there's not a soul in sight
In this twisted little town on an ordinary night.
This town holds all the townsfolk, (none of them a twitter)
The spry liar, the smart baker, and the old ones that are bitter.
There's none as wicked as the witch, none as crafty as the sheep,
None as evil as the mayor, none as quiet as the keep.
And an accidental stranger, (such a timid little thing!)
Wanders into the town, and frightened, starts to sing.
"There are things I've heard of a wicked, wicked town,
Of it's twisted little people, of their mouths turned down.
And yet I ventured out, not knowing where I was
I wandered and I settled, and I did it just because."
And as the man kept singing, the twisted, they came out!
They were wont to not like singing; what was this about?
And the stranger he is trembling, though lazy are the leaves,
The fire in their eyes burns hot, s
The Third BattleFootsteps on the water,
Words that glint like stone,
Frost biting, leaves churning,
Cold, dead hands search, unknown.
Feet are cold, the mind is useless...
The mud's too deep; they're drowning.
The guns have jammed- no use!
And everybody's screaming-
No one's going home.
The women cry.
Their sons are dead,
Their husbands, brothers, friends...
A lark calls out sorrowfully;
The ground is tinged with blood.
The rain is falling in torrents,
Swallows everyone up.
There's a mirror here- a surface.
There's a person that's unknown.
Gaze deeply into purpose,
Here are words not written in stone.
They'll fade some day;
As we know, tablets crumble into dust.
New soil is laid, new futures too,
As with ashes, so it must.
There are too many colours, too many answers-
Yet, all hurting for release,
The answer doth come simply; see?
It's truth given piece by piece.
There's a person there who holds a clue.
Pencil, paintbrush- both close by hand.
Words spoken out loud fade away.
She does not hold command.
But do not worry, there's no trouble.
She knows just what she sees:
From falling towers and celebrations-
To nations that fall down onto their knees.
In the heart there lie the secrets,
The constant colourful array.
Coats of all varieties,
People passing day by day.
"Look to the future," they tell me,
"It would be wise to do."
But how can one cope with this-
When tomorrow's hope's to just get through?
The sides keep pressing and deciding,
As the banter rises
Kingdom ChaosEmpty boardwalks in an empty town,
Lonely king with a paper bag crown.
The kingdom his riches,
His rubies and stitches
Of gold thread throughout his hair.
No one stirs; no one's there.
Empty throne room, empty bed.
Grey, greying hairs on a bald, balding head
Sceptre bent, tall and worn:
The poor old king of old town scorn.
Bizarre birds fly o'er his sky
Dropping cherry bombs. "Die die die..."
Old man Jackson, bent and bruised
His wife has left him, he was used.
Empty house and empty room,
Empty spinning wheel, empty loom.
No fair Repunzel maiden-
No princess lean and tall-
For his kingdom is his prison.
His jail cell, now and forever all.