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✿⊰✲⊱✿
Then the door is opened and Esshi comes in,
curtsying. "My Lady, this came for you."
I stare at her hand. "A letter? Place it with
the others."
"My Queen, it is from King Paul. His messenger
insisted that you read it today."
"Already?" I blink as I gently take
the letter and open it, revealing it's content.

Dear Queen Lyn,
I hope this letter reaches you quickly.
I have everything planned out on my
end. The invites have been sent! I look
forward to seeing you and the other Kings
and Queen on the morrow!
Best wishes!
King Paul


✿⊰✲⊱✿
I chuckle as I place the letter back in the
envelop, "Well, you've got to hand it to him,
he works fast! Everything is going as planned.
Are Aurelinaea's presents ready?"
"Yes, My Lady!" Esshi beamed as I stare
towards the horizon with a smile.
Okay, well... that was a thing!
Next part of this story is called the gala which is a work in progress!
Hope you're enjoying it so far!
^-^


The Dame stands before me,
droplets of sorrow falling
from her eyes

A sad, vulnerable beauty...

But little did I know that she
was a delicate calamity

whose body is made from
screams of the howling
oceans

A false crown made from
a long dead sun

Eyes as cool and cold
and cunning as a viper

And a heart long since
barren


Thank goodness I've cut out such people from my life....
Lyn x


-
My silver Knight,
shining with angelic splendour has sailed
towards the outer regions of my Kingdom
to lay waste to all my enemies. My heart in
hands, my hands are clasped, brought alive
with love, with light, with prayer.
Please, come back to me.
As I think of arrows piercing his breast,
or swords, or warhammers or even axes
I cannot, will not ever dance to the songs
of war.
A fire that claims souls, the earth that drinks
blood, a sight that makes my stomach turn
To see men fighting for a cause or no cause
at all. For war rapes all of happiness and loved
ones.
Oh! Begone tortuous thoughts! Revolting facts!
He will return. He will return!
For my nation prays with fervour, but all have
bleary-eyes, no more than me. He's gone to brave
the dragon's dawn - of men branded, fuelled by
the flames of war, riding into the fields on their
snow kissed mounts, roaring and clashing under
a broken sky; the kiss of steel, blades that dance
between life and death and give any and many
the kiss of Eternal Sleep.
The harp of his silver tongue plays soft, gentle and
true. Hand in hand, we walk through fields, of my
dreams divine! The ambition, the care, the charm
glowing in your eyes to be something more.
To you, I was a muse to climb and soar though the
heights, and you spoke so highly of my golden
sapient quill.
My heart, heavy, full of woe
As sleep has not come smoothly to my face,
my body, my heart, my soul.
You promised me, 'I will return to you.'
  'I will return to you,'
how your voice hung so sweet in my ear,
ripe with love, vibrant with hope, certain as the rising light
Please do not fade away, I could not bear it!
Please don't fade away!
Bring unto me that gold and joyous hour!
Fair the storms and roars; overcome the shores,
slay and return to me from the dragon's dawn,
unscathed and with a smile on your handsome
face.
-


A continuation of my 'Silver Knight' poem!
Lyn ***
^-^
 Aug 2018 John Stevens
Sjr1000
Can you tell me
please
which way now is home
I used to know, my dear
The way was clear
There was no fear

Tying my walking shoes
I knew I needed to get clear of here
thought I'd find
all that was dear

The road though, it is narrow
The cliff it is shear
My balance is
woozy

Can you tell me my dear

which way is home
which way do I go from here,
I think I oughta know
But the hills they are wavering
The ocean is in turmoil
The mountains are slick
far too dangerous

The desert has no mercy

I know something and with this knowledge
I think I must be cursed
I think I have it
Peace & Home
goes and comes
and comes and goes.
When I look in the mirror my heart

stops, I can hear my soul weeping.

I am confused, that is not the image I

expected, certainly not what my brain

anticipated. So many miles I put

between us,

I called, but my subconscious would

change the frequency of the calls with

each passing year. Over a decade and

a half I prevented myself from letting

sand gently tickle my feet, waves relax

my soul, and sea breeze whispers in

my ears. Not able to reflect and re-live

times filled with music, dancing,

learning to love, and learning to enjoy

a colorful culture that despite pitfalls,

obstacles, and oppression, manages to

rise above all and shine, to light up

our path to greatness and show the

sacrifices our ancestors made

so we don’t forget where we come

from and where we have to go.

I look in the mirror once more,

nothing has changed, same image,

now it is staring… I blinked, it is gone.

my dream quickly becomes a

nightmare, the image jumps out of the

mirror and gives chase, I’m not fast

enough.

I am him—He is me, I am cursed!

I am flying, no destination, no horizon,


visibility is very low, I grow tired.

another dream turning nightmare.

same mirror, same image, I ‘m not

running, not scared, never really was.

I turned around to see the image

turning into a beast.

I am no longer him—He is no longer

me. He tries to reach me, tries to talk

to me, he seems to be paralyzed,

frustrated, mute, impotent. I feel sorry

for the beast as he is now powerless,

sad, and alone.

I am flying, I see the horizon, I have a

destination.

I am tired no more… I have a purpose.
I wrote a poem when I died...
Another at my birth.
A brand-new sonnet when I cried.
And again when there was mirth.

A song for my confession...
A story for my pain...
A painting for depression...
And nursery rhymes for rain.

My creations live inside my heart.
I keep them there in shame.
Yet you looked around and saw my art,
And smiled all the same.
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