When Moonlight wens upon the moore
And Starlight knocks upon your door.
When thrums the hum of Faerie Wings
And the Harpen sound of Elfen strings.
Accompanied by dark Dwarven drums
The music of the night doth come.

A Shaman tends with Force of Night
A Silver Sword of fierce Light.
The wounds flow. The battle bounds
Thunder of Hooves upon the ground.
Tirelessly on the battles fight
But fades away in Mornings light.

And now that morning light is near
I arise from sleep with vision clear.
And the webs of tiredness
Fall from my eyes.
My new day begins
Under the skies…...JMF 11/9/14

Blazing within under my Skin is a field of Empathy
The Emotive Ports, Allow Energy arcs, Leaping around in me

The Booming Roll of Thunder, and Flash of Lightening
Is Like a Building Wave to Surf upon a Jolt of Energy...

In Brooding Darkness, the Spark creates, the Flash of Light
Colliding Potential Differences, Thunders in the Night

In Walking Dreams, a Cat Jumps out scratched, Runes on my left Arm
Scratched in my blood it read "Use this to ward off charm and all harm"

The Harpen Tone of Elfen Strings float in the Night to Me...
As the Twinkle of Faerie lights shine in the Home land Trees

At which I shook my Head Awake, knowing I'll be back... Come what may
For Nothing With in me could Keep me away

Caught in the spark of a frozen glass,
in between the distance were two eyes meet.
Indifferent to the senseless talking of the mass,
an elfen smile so exciting yet so discreet.

Ignorant to the paradox that is gravity and time;
the dark curls bounced ever so slightly against the wind,
and as a castaway I fell for what I knew had to be mine;
as a mirage by the bleeding moon overpowering my mind.

Carried by the echoes of the chilling air against my ears,
roses and tulips couldn't compare to that fragrance.
Yet the missing puzzle was found and it was in my tears,
and it was all lost because of my utter arrogance.

The days turned to months and the months turned to years;
The goods turned to byes and the love turned to hate.
We achieved nothing but what we claimed was our worst fear,
yet here I stand wondering whether it'll be too late.

But I won't say sorry and neither will you,
so all there's to do is live on those memories;
never admitting who was wrong and who was true,
slowly letting the years we had turn to centuries.

And as the roses you adored so much,
you and I will fall into decadence,
putrefying our souls holding on to a grudge,
united only by our utter arrogance.