Tag Archives: Fiction

Lantern Light #fieryverse

[audio https://audioboo.fm/boos/2329299-lantern-light.mp3]

 

A lost child

Enters his forest

Drawn on

By lantern light

By hope of warmth

She encounters

The devil himself

A beastly form

Worn and torn

Snarling

Alone

Timidly

She approaches

Extends a small

Soft hand

He twitches

Turns

His eyes flare

And burn

But the child

Does not shy away

She instead

Caresses

His pelt

Meets his gaze

Selflessly

Welcoming

Her death

In the

Lantern light

Of his eyes

 


The Wooded Realm Pt5

[audio https://audioboo.fm/boos/2232849-the-wooded-realm-pt5.mp3]

 

Ven huddles, looming shadows at her back.
Flames fan her face, but warm soothment they lack.
Her history, long hid from her, feels black.
As the crone tells on, Ven’s surety cracks..

 

“I was there, waiting, at your very birth.

With dust of coal and purest blood of earth,

I marked you true, as the fates demanded.

T’was I that named you, as they commanded.”

 

She pauses now, staring into the fire,

She whispers how, “It were my heart’s desire.

To be led to choose gives one regency,

In the eyes of the gods, ascendancy.”

 

Quickly, her hooded eyes alight on Ven,

“For you to know the scope, you must listen.

The magic draws you on undoubtedly.

Destiny you must endure, fearlessly.”

 

With raised brow, Ven hesitantly questions.

The hag replies, “Follow my directions-

A simple spell will send you to your fate.

Just listen my deary, and contemplate..”

 
Where will this wind our girl, what fate mentioned?


The Wooded Realm Pt4

[audio https://audioboo.fm/boos/2232843-the-wooded-realm-pt4.mp3]

 

Having run, Ven finds herself in danger-
Caught and held in the grip of a stranger,
Who retains long sought answers within her.
What do secrets cost, what is their nature?

 

Freed of hands, bound by curiosity,

Ven crouches, awaiting veracity.

From this ag-ed, bent and gnarled figure.

This small, seemingly frail, warted creature.

 

“Who is it you claim to be-” Ven starts,

At the crack of a smack, her cheek smarts.

“You’d be wise to hold thy tongue,” the crone growls,

“For flapping lips do quickly run afoul.”

 

“Your story, my child, began long ago.

When stars ran aground and their magic flowed.

In my veins runs the gift of prophecy,

And ages past your name came unto me.

 

“With mine own eyes I beheld your squalling.

Glimpsed your future darkly with my calling.

To your parents I went, ‘fore them I told –

She must be named and marked as I was bode!”

 

Ven’s tale winds on with a magical bend.

 


The Wooded Realm Pt3

Our maid, wayward, what should we make of this?
A queen to be, a whole kingdom’s promise…
Will she lay crown, scepter, aside, remiss?
What of the questions that still lie amiss?

 

Casting off her reign and duty, Ven runs-

To shouted commands, and knight’s halting drums.

Off into the woods she sprints, no remorse,

Unable to take demanding recourse.

 

Deep and deeper in forest she finds her

Long legs pumping, she bounds ever further.

Till with a great shriek! She falls to a halt,

‘Fore a bone-built altar, a deathly vault.

 

On knees, hands in hair, in daunting terror,

Ven cries aloud, but is caught in measure.

A hand screens her mouth, tightly binds her screams.

“I’ll tell you all,” a rough voice softly teems..

 

“You and I are bound,” the voice continues,

“It were You I called, and you my venue,

Marked at birth by mine own hand, be glad girl!

For the fortunes would have your faith unfurl!”
Who binds our queen, what does this now portend?


The Wooded Realm Pt2

[audio https://audioboo.fm/boos/2172854-the-wooded-realm-pt2.mp3]

 

Once again we wend through this written dream.
Revisiting our friend from the last scene.
Let’s reminisce on what we’ve not yet seen-
The history of this fey, marked queen.

 

A kingdom of light, reigned over by two:

A regent king and his fairy wife, true.

Though their love begat ten sweet little tykes,

Just one could be named; fate struck as it likes.

 

Born to rule by chance of mark, chosen one;

A babe’s life planned before it had begun.

This precocious girl, Ven, soon grew into

A wild young woman who saw her own view.

 

Not seeking to be bound by crown, Ven spoke –

“Queenly rainment I’ll not wear, I revoke

Your arrangements for my life, can’t you see

What misery you bestow upon me?!”

 

“Calm, child, settle,” said her aging father,

“This is your fate,” entreated her mother.

Both compelled, “This is not a simple game.

You were singled, marked, and were called by name!”

 

Who singled, what mark, what name, to what end?


The Wooded Realm Pt1

[audio https://audioboo.fm/boos/2151797-the-wooded-realm-pt-1.mp3]

 

Once upon a destiny, one sweet spring eve,
While buds were still blossoming on the trees,
And whispering wind gave kisses of breeze;
Here is where our story begins to weave.

 

A figure, slight and spry, steps from shadow,

A shimmer surrounds, more than mere moonglow.

Small of stature, yet somehow commanding,

Her back straight and proud, a regal bearing.

 

Hair dark as coal, eyes deeper than night, shine!

Features petite, somewhat sharp, yet benign.

A heart-shaped mouth, so elegantly curved,

A sweet pointed chin, so gracefully carved.

 

Clothed in a cloak of pure moonlight, it seemed.

Nearly a fairy, emerged from a dream.

Proudly, she strode through her dark wooded realm,

As if leading an army, she at the helm.

 

But who is this creature, this bold empress,

This goddess or temptress, this moon’s mistress?

And what is her tale, conquest or capture?

To what long promised end is her rapture?
Time may tell, soon enough. Be patient, friend.


Fated Night – A Sonnet

Musical accompaniment by @JoseLMendeV   Many thanks to him.

 

Her eyes draw to the window once again

Hoping her love will soon return, longing

Her heart aches, feeling pulled from her, to him

A chasm in the midst of her, forming

 

Rain begins to fall, the wind comes howling

Beating at her windows, rude intruder

Her hand to her heart falls, trembling, fearing

Her mind sprints away, all peace eludes her

 

Her heart skips, in a pained languid stupor

A ringing shatters the waiting silence

On the line, the voice of a state trooper

Speaks softly thus – her love, lost, to violence

 

Thunder rolls, rains pours, tears slowly roll, fall

Her love, her life, this night she’s lost it all

 

 

yes, line 12 is 11 syllables. fuck it. send.


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