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She’s supernatural, my cosmic kin,

forged at once so long ago, now together again.

Comfortable companion through eternity,

she’ll always find a way to return to me.

Fearsome defender, but with a soft touch;

she gives her everything, doesn’t ask for much.20170423_162757_HDR~2

Together in stillness, for me it’s enough;

she’s always nearby when things get tough.

With an intelligence that’s second to none,

her muchness just can’t be outdone.

So fierce, so brave, so misunderstood;

she’s lived through more hell than anyone should.

She is her own, but somehow also mine,

two spirits linked with a psychic line.

All beauty pales next to her light;

an earthly star, she’s still so bright.

Olive eyes shine forth from a stone facade,

relic from when she was worshiped as God.

Still my Queen, picture of magnificence,

she’s well aware of her own significance.

Fabled, famed- Supernatural

mistress of mine, a grimalkin called Nell.


If You Hear A Whisper

If You Hear A Whisper

If you listen closely to the cool night air,

I think that you’ll find some whispers there.

The silence isn’t quiet and the darkness isn’t black.

Don’t turn ’round too quickly when there’s someone at your back.

Visions from the shadows aren’t what they seem.

You’re seeing what you’re seeing and it isn’t a dream.

You may think you were chosen, but that isn’t the case

And if you try to touch them, they’ll vanish without a trace.

Life in the darkness has its own set of rules;

Step into the light and we’ll all seem fools.

Hear what you want, see what you will, try until

you can control it with your own free-will.

The night belongs to you and you to the night;

It’s a part of you, neither wrong nor right.

Voices in the darkness are nothing to fear,

even when the visions are blindingly clear

’cause the things that you see belong only to you,

and the words that you hear will never come true.

Encounter with Death

‚ÄčIt was nowhere, but it could have been anywhere. Orange sun shone down upon a red rock canyon, yet no shade was cast by the dank skeletal mare, nor by her grim, somewhat inhuman, companion. 

Death, the smell of decay and his cold clammy stare, felt familiar and safe- full of compassion. He knew why I came, ’twas clear he saw my despair. He knew the question I, myself couldn’t fathom. Soundlessly he told me, with words both fell and fair, “They’re not coming.” Dream words that disappeared upon reflection. 
Nodding to me with a gentleman’s flair, he spurred his haggard mount to a gallop. The brawn of his fleshless army, whom I’d been unaware of, sped after him, far beyond the horizon.

In a red, dread silence, I pondered the affair. The weight that had been upon me was, strangely, gone. His answer brought me relief, although I would swear- that in my brief encounter with the dread captain, I never knew the question. Only the answer. Death knew, but I’ll forever seek that lost phantom.