Not much to ask is it? Black and red go so well together. As do velvet darkness and moonlit nights heavy with the scent of night blooming jasmine. Black roses unfurl their beauty, beckoning drama and unfolding passion. Where does the siren lead? To paths plunging deep into the inner world of forgotten gods, unicorns and Faerie folk. Ancient songs haunt the winds of change, telling and retelling tales of tragedy and heroic acts. A little dramatic would you say?
Does it unsettle to look beneath the mask, search out truths and untruths hidden deep? Does it pain the soul to admit failings and regrets? Who and what do we desire to be are questions asked but with no answers forthcoming. Look beyond the illusions and seek the person slumbering within whispers the voice in our mind.
He wakens, sends forth visions of disquiet. No words are offered, only cobweb shrouded dreams.
Ancient battles rage, move through forests of memories. They sear like a brand, Subdue with righteous anger. Punished are we children of the twilight, creatures forged in hunger and envy.
Enchanter is he. Dragon, forged in fire, weaver of life. Seer and bringer of a Death unremitting. Guardian of treasures none but the illumined can see. That is, only through the gates of Void and Silence.
What is He? The words written on this scroll only serve to deepen the disquiet I’m feeling. I know very well what He is but hoped it would not be so. Creatures like him glide silently through the corridors of our dreams; bringing confused thoughts and unawakened desires. He tests us, touches the veils of awareness. Legends unfurl like the petals of night blooming Hellebore. I see his history and it is not a happy one. Continue reading