Sing to Me of Yearning and Loss: Spirit of Love

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Image: Pixabay

 “Sing to me of yearning and loss. Bring my heart to life. Let me feel the passion of her kiss and agony of her death” he commands. Yet, does he want to be reminded of his loss?

The musicians stare at the archaic god, one whose voice and musicianship have bowed even the heads of the infernal deities in Hades. Once his eyes bore the light of stars but now are touched with deep shadows that tell of ordeal and tribulation. Despite the kiss of deep sorrow he still bears an unearthly beauty. Mighty king of Thrace, blessed with gifts beyond measure to calm even the mightiest storm. How can they refuse such an honour? They are no strangers to the Orphic Mysteries and it is no accident great Orpheus has come upon this place. Continue reading

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Crimson Kisses

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Image: Pixabay

His journal is heavy with longing and pain:

Crimson kisses and scorched souls, these are her legacy. A voluptuous beauty glimpsed between doorways, inflaming the soul with unholy fire. How it pains me that she will always remain unattainable and devoid of feeling. She searches for meaning amongst the living; alas they offer only empty words and ashen faces. Her scent pervades my every moment, redolent of passion and old roses. I beg just one kiss from her beauteous lips, just one! Blood red and full are they, whispering empty sentiments. I yearn to bury my face in the dark waterfall that is her hair. Psyche my love.

Even after centuries it evokes such terrible emotions. The burdens of his line were forced upon her and so it was that he condemned both of them to near annihilation. Oh what crimes the lovelorn and vengeful perpetrate in this world! She is near and he will be shadowing her footsteps. The darkness pervades his very being; hatred brings with it such terrible repercussions. It warps and twists the fabric of the material and astral planes, imperilling the immortal soul. Our work is never-ending and has been since the Fall. We grieve for the children of the One; their pain becomes our pain until the time of healing and release.

She approaches, sad-eyed and out for blood. He has turned her heart into cinders, what manner of vengeance has she meted upon he? My brethren and I stand prepared for the oncoming battle. Our dark wings enfold the worlds in readiness.

‘Dear, dear Psyche, fear not, we shall not abandon you. It is time to go home.’

The shadow has sunk its tendrils into her, sinking deeper as she struggles to escape. We breathe in her pain and offer her salvation and release. The battle ensues, vicious and spiteful is the tormentor. Our patience is not endless and his end is quick. Her paramour is enveloped in silver-violet fire, cleansed and sanctified. He is finally released into the care of those of our kind engaged in healing of a type, of a type we do not speak of openly. It is done. Both he and she are free and their screams of relief are deep and visceral. I envelop Psyche in wings of midnight and indigo and sing a song of remembrance, of happier times as she sleeps. The journal is thrown into the flames of dissolution, vanquished finally. The purity of Love is regained, for now.

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Image: Pixabay

The Gathering #writephoto

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Photo: Sue Vincent

My response to Sue Vincent’s Thursday photo prompt, Beacon #writephoto.

Once again something stirs deep within my mind. I see images of things past, images of things held dear. The great mage, prophet and madman Merlin was going to feature in my offering but his visit has been rescheduled to another day. The High Priestess in this tale is one that has visited the shores of ancient Britain before. She and I are known to each other…Her story is intimately linked with my past history you could say. I had a clear picture in my mind of the story and how it would unfold. This Beacon offers a light through often dark and choppy waters, both on the inner and outer. It acts as symbol of the triumph of Light over Chaos and Darkness. It also acts as a herald, bringing with it news of much importance. Like the High Priestess we can sometimes find ourselves waiting on distant summits, waiting for a glimpse of something which will bring us hope and healing. Our world is in much disarray as hers, nothing much changes in the long and troubled history of humanity! Yet, we must find the strength and courage, as well as humility to stand against things which seek to destroy our spirit and compassion. Above all we must hold fast to our Soul’s mission. Continue reading