Beheld as a coy siren,
She is like sweet venom,
To her this is unknown,
She walks amidst shadows,
Silent, simple and alone,
A goddess of the creatures of the dark,
She walks them barefoot through the nicest parts of hell,
With such grace, strength and ease,
It is almost as though she is guided by the night breeze,
The musical ring of her laughter,
Words flow from her silken tongue,
Like a lovers sensual caress,
She entrances like a snake charmers hypnotic melody,
But this sirens call,
Isn’t really that at all,
With the bat of heavy lidded midnight eyes,
Many have drown,
Taken captive by that gaze, forever mesmerized,
Just as the pied piper led rats from the town,
Those who have gotten close to the true her,
Fall to their knees, at her feet, spellbound,
Those who have survived the madness,
Now covet to possess,
With her shy smile she does lure,
Her mystique lies in her look of innocence so pure,
She is a wicked wench,
Evil through her entire soul,
Yet they still insist…she is the answer, the perfect cure,
Pity to all who have ever met her come hither stare,
For once they do, they do not stand a chance,
She dances a sinful wicked dance,
On a moonlit summers eve,
Oblivious to her powers,
She is cunningly naïve,
Her sweet innocent flirtation,
Leads straight to temptation,
She is so bewitchingly evil,
Uses her silence to devastating effect,
For even in her absence her essence still lingers,
She can drive one to madness with just a look,
She is unknowingly deceitful,
Beautiful and perfect,
She is sin incarnate,
Completely poisonous, and soon she will possess,
Your soul forever more,
She is a black butterfly,
A dark fae of the night,
Goddess to the creatures of the darkness,
Once she takes flight…
She leaves devastation in her wake,
She is lovely but fatal,
A mistress of insanity,
With a devious twinkle in midnight eyes,
She smiles so innocently and to herself thinks,
I hope you enjoy the misery that I have left behind,
You should have known from the beginning,
I would make you lose your mind.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Tainted
I am one of many…
Battered and abused,
I have become,
Tainted,
After years of mistreatment and use,
With a heart so blackened and diseased,
Scars that run so deep they will never cauterize,
The only relief from pain in sight seems to be demise,
While the screaming inside becomes deafening,
And threatens to break free,
I realize I am damaged beyond repair,
And there may never be…
Any release from the rage,
Or any peace for me,
The vile blood that through these veins flows,
Is now so septic that it corrodes,
Washing away any trace of the once unbroken soul,
Can’t recall a time where I wasn’t bitter and jaded,
Or I didn’t feel weariness and wasted,
Longing for escape from the nothingness inside,
So numb from all these years,
Can’t recall the last time I felt enough to cry,
I am vile and venomous,
Toxic to all pure souls,
So baneful and lost,
That no one can behold,
I am weary and wasted,
Bitter and jaded,
To all living things I am toxic,
Sarcastic and caustic,
But I didn’t alone find my way into this hell,
After years of abuse, mistreatment and use,
I am corrupt, nearly broken…
Tainted.
Battered and abused,
I have become,
Tainted,
After years of mistreatment and use,
With a heart so blackened and diseased,
Scars that run so deep they will never cauterize,
The only relief from pain in sight seems to be demise,
While the screaming inside becomes deafening,
And threatens to break free,
I realize I am damaged beyond repair,
And there may never be…
Any release from the rage,
Or any peace for me,
The vile blood that through these veins flows,
Is now so septic that it corrodes,
Washing away any trace of the once unbroken soul,
Can’t recall a time where I wasn’t bitter and jaded,
Or I didn’t feel weariness and wasted,
Longing for escape from the nothingness inside,
So numb from all these years,
Can’t recall the last time I felt enough to cry,
I am vile and venomous,
Toxic to all pure souls,
So baneful and lost,
That no one can behold,
I am weary and wasted,
Bitter and jaded,
To all living things I am toxic,
Sarcastic and caustic,
But I didn’t alone find my way into this hell,
After years of abuse, mistreatment and use,
I am corrupt, nearly broken…
Tainted.
Canvas
The body is a canvas,
Mind a vast blank parchment,
Thoughts and ideals imparted on us from infancy,
Begin to fill the pages of the empty scroll that is our memory,
As we begin to live for ourselves,
The calligraphy pen furiously inscribes,
Etches in time,
As we begin to ponder what in the beginning we were taught,
Form our own opinions,
Follow through on independent thoughts,
My body is a canvas to express who I have become,
The needle tears the skin,
And soon begins to fill,
Canvas which was once blank,
The artwork begins to form ideas that are my own,
Palette of colors begins to paint a picture,
An expression of who I am,
The body is a canvas to be displayed for all to see,
With the artists job now done,
In the expression of his talent,
He has also uncovered the freedom and creativity,
That is what I stand for,
That is the true me!
Mind a vast blank parchment,
Thoughts and ideals imparted on us from infancy,
Begin to fill the pages of the empty scroll that is our memory,
As we begin to live for ourselves,
The calligraphy pen furiously inscribes,
Etches in time,
As we begin to ponder what in the beginning we were taught,
Form our own opinions,
Follow through on independent thoughts,
My body is a canvas to express who I have become,
The needle tears the skin,
And soon begins to fill,
Canvas which was once blank,
The artwork begins to form ideas that are my own,
Palette of colors begins to paint a picture,
An expression of who I am,
The body is a canvas to be displayed for all to see,
With the artists job now done,
In the expression of his talent,
He has also uncovered the freedom and creativity,
That is what I stand for,
That is the true me!
Poet
What is a poet but a tortured soul?
Who takes words and letters and turns them into gold,
Wraps them in meaning and paints a picture in your mind,
Is there any truer form of art?
Than taking the blood of your soul and writing it on the walls,
So that everyone will know,
No matter what the feeling, some one has been there before,
And words do flow like fire from the minds of the inspired,
Isn’t it amazing how…
One can take mere words and weave them into…
Beauty, pain, love or hate,
And suddenly they take on movement as they lie upon the page,
We can take you to…
The heights of happiness or the depths of despair and rage,
What is a poet?
If not a magician,
A conductor of the words of the heart,
What is a poet?
If not…a living, breathing work of art.
Who takes words and letters and turns them into gold,
Wraps them in meaning and paints a picture in your mind,
Is there any truer form of art?
Than taking the blood of your soul and writing it on the walls,
So that everyone will know,
No matter what the feeling, some one has been there before,
And words do flow like fire from the minds of the inspired,
Isn’t it amazing how…
One can take mere words and weave them into…
Beauty, pain, love or hate,
And suddenly they take on movement as they lie upon the page,
We can take you to…
The heights of happiness or the depths of despair and rage,
What is a poet?
If not a magician,
A conductor of the words of the heart,
What is a poet?
If not…a living, breathing work of art.
Torn
She sent a wish along with a piece of her heart,
It sailed along for awhile but never made it very far,
Her wish along with her heart was bruised, battered
and torn apart,
Torn and tattered too many times to repair,
All the things he got away with that were so unfair,
His deceitful beauty that ensnared her inside,
His silver and powerful web of lies,
An iciness that reached so much farther than those
deep endless blue eyes,
Acting like he cared for just a little while,
Then he turned on her with that perfect smile
And once again acted as if there had never been…
Anything between them,
And the cycle always repeats,
He draws in another,
Her advice is run, seek cover,
Your heart will only get bruised and battered,
And he’ll claim another victim as if that is
all that has ever mattered.
It sailed along for awhile but never made it very far,
Her wish along with her heart was bruised, battered
and torn apart,
Torn and tattered too many times to repair,
All the things he got away with that were so unfair,
His deceitful beauty that ensnared her inside,
His silver and powerful web of lies,
An iciness that reached so much farther than those
deep endless blue eyes,
Acting like he cared for just a little while,
Then he turned on her with that perfect smile
And once again acted as if there had never been…
Anything between them,
And the cycle always repeats,
He draws in another,
Her advice is run, seek cover,
Your heart will only get bruised and battered,
And he’ll claim another victim as if that is
all that has ever mattered.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Untitled
Moonlight seeped through the skylight in the study. She knelt on one knee upon the cold wood of the roll top desk. It was dark and she was waiting. Two things she was accustomed to, darkness and waiting...
From across the house she felt him, even before his key hit the lock. One of her many gifts, she could sense people, even if for some reason she could not hear them. His footsteps approached the study door. She stayed as still and poised as a cat ready to pounce, her breathing was calm and undetectable.
Opening the door he flipped on the lights, sinking in his leather chair he closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Taking the cue, she sprang silently from her hiding spot, landing on the floor in front of him. Before he knew what was happening she had him by his throat.
"Hello Dominik. Have you missed me?" She purred in his ear while tracing her tongue up his neck and squeezing his throat.
A low growl emanated from him in return. "No! I think you have it backwards Anya, I think it is you who have missed me!" He uttered in a ragged gasp, indignation flaring in his eyes.
"Aye, perhaps!" She said releasing him, pushing him forcefully backwards.
Dominik’s mind spun at the sudden appearance of her. "What are you doing here Anya? It's been 18 months."
She looked at him, amused with his annoyance. Leaning back against the desk she said nothing, making her an even more imposing figure.
A vision of Nordic beauty, she stood 5'10 with long blond hair pulled neatly back, with a few pieces framing her seemingly angelic face. However, her deep blue eyes betrayed her. They were the eyes of a natural born killer.
Perfect, and perfectly deadly, she was dressed to kill in a long black vinyl trench coat that showed off her muscular figure, miles of legs and deadly curves in all the right places. These two had a history and he knew she had every intention of holding it against him. And he was helpless to resist, for she, was his kryptonite.
After what seemed an uncomfortable eternity she finally spoke. "I have something you want and in return I want you as a training partner and a place to stay." Walking to the door, she turned to see his mouth wide open. "I assume my suite is the way I left it?" Dominik followed her down the hallway to what used to be her room. "This is absurd, if anyone finds out you are here..." Laughing cynically, she turned to him. "Don't you remember the phrase ‘hiding in plain sight’? No one will look for me in the supposed enemy’s house now will they?"
Opening the door to her room Anya stepped inside looking around for a moment. "Some things never change, aye Dom?" she said while undressing down to her lingerie. He stood in the hall outside her room stunned. "You are dismissed. I am tired it’s been a long trip. We shall catch up in the morning." With that she closed the door, turned out the light and quickly fell into a deep sleep.
Subsection II
The night was eerily quiet, except for the thundering of his boots across the rooftop and his heart pounding in his ears. He ran hard, as if his life depended upon it, chasing the shadow of a demon he couldn't seem to catch.
Light from the full moon illuminated the rooftop briefly as a cloud drifted past. Stopping briefly, his lungs burned from the frigid air. Gasping for breath, he sucked in the sweet elixir hoping that it would replenish him. For tonight was his best chance at capturing this wretched creature.
For months he had blended in the underground of New York City, waiting for something to happen. From the moment he laid eyes on her he knew she was the key. Somehow or another she always managed to elude him. Even now atop the rooftops of the city she still managed to escape him. With the greatest of ease she seemed to fly across the gaps in buildings, dodging arrows from his cross bow as though she had eyes in the back of her head or a precognitive gift.
Listening intently for any clue to where she was, he heard a rustling coming from near by, perking his ears up to hear it better, he began creeping across the rooftop with stealth that rivaled that of a cat.
Hidden in the shadows she watched him with great interest. For being such a large man he moved with grace and ease that she had only seen in her kind. He stood about 6'2 large frame of all muscle. With dark brown hair, almost black and dark good looks. She knew from the past few weeks that he was of Spanish descent.
"Senor Hunter" she called out to him mockingly. Her laughter chilled him to the bones as it echoed through the night.
Swiveling around he was startled, he was sure she would have been long gone by now. But he realized she was playing with him. A cold breeze grazed his cheek, sending an immediate tingling up his spine.
"What the hell are you, some kind of ghost too?" he called out. Suddenly he felt white hot pain as her boot met his temple. Dizzy and disoriented he stumbled in a circle trying to find her when she appeared out of the mist. Stalking towards him,”Here I am Senor Hunter, in the flesh and.....blood." Sarcasm dripped from her voice as she taunted.
Gripping his cross bow he lifted it up and aimed for her heart. Watching the arrow in slow motion head directly for her, suddenly she sprang up into the air and out of sight.
"What the holy hell is going on here" he thought to himself. It was like he was stuck in some bizarre nightmare. Feeling something on his neck, he found himself paralyzed. "Senor hunter, I am not usually the hunted I am usually the hunter" she whispered into his ear.
"Let go of me vampyress and fight me fair, if you know how.” It came out as more of a growl than a statement. "Aye, I always fight fair. I do not kill needlessly or for fun"
The feeling of her warm breath on his neck was making him ill but still he found himself unable to move.
"Oh a vampire with morals, how charming" he spat at her. Releasing him from whatever the power was that held him she spoke. "You want a fair fight you have got it, but this will be hand to hand combat for I have not tried to skewer you with anything sharp and I very well could have just now" Smiling devilishly revealing her long fangs.
Circling each other like prey, the longest battle of their lives was set to ensue. They battled for hours, back and forth in martial arts form. Only managing to pin her down once, his hands wrapped around her throat he became mesmerized. “You can end it all right here” the voice inside his head screamed. But he could not do it, for some reason he let go. Kicking out from underneath him, she stood before him bruised, bloodied and exhausted.
“Your weakness is not physical I see, Senor Hunter.” She whispered now hovering above him.
Visibly dazed by his inability to end the battle, he stared down at his hands, weary and yearning desperately for the end. Sensing this she did the only merciful thing she could, her boot connected with the side of his skull. He just relished the peacefulness as he was swallowed into the abyss, slipping deeper into blissful unconsciousness.
Upon awakening, he heard voices all around him. His head was throbbing and he had no recollection of where he was or how he got there.
“Anya he is awake” a gruff voice stated from nearby.
Leaning over the couch where he lay, was the vampyress.
“Where, where have you brought me?” he stammered.
“You are safe here Senor hunter, you are in the Ankh house” She said smiling down at him.
“Safe? You call this safe? Am I to understand that you have brought me to your coven?” panicking as he looked around into the faces of several vampires.
Everyone and everything around them stopped, the silence that followed was deafening.
“No Senor, I have brought you into my home, it would serve you well to learn the difference! Now, what is your name?” She snapped, trying to disguise the hurt in her eyes with coldness.
For some reason, in that instant he responded to the humanity in her, with a new found respect, he realized she was not what he thought, she was an enigma.
“It is Dominik” he said in a low, hushed voice suddenly ashamed of his actions.
(this is my original works and therefore is copyrighted to me)
From across the house she felt him, even before his key hit the lock. One of her many gifts, she could sense people, even if for some reason she could not hear them. His footsteps approached the study door. She stayed as still and poised as a cat ready to pounce, her breathing was calm and undetectable.
Opening the door he flipped on the lights, sinking in his leather chair he closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Taking the cue, she sprang silently from her hiding spot, landing on the floor in front of him. Before he knew what was happening she had him by his throat.
"Hello Dominik. Have you missed me?" She purred in his ear while tracing her tongue up his neck and squeezing his throat.
A low growl emanated from him in return. "No! I think you have it backwards Anya, I think it is you who have missed me!" He uttered in a ragged gasp, indignation flaring in his eyes.
"Aye, perhaps!" She said releasing him, pushing him forcefully backwards.
Dominik’s mind spun at the sudden appearance of her. "What are you doing here Anya? It's been 18 months."
She looked at him, amused with his annoyance. Leaning back against the desk she said nothing, making her an even more imposing figure.
A vision of Nordic beauty, she stood 5'10 with long blond hair pulled neatly back, with a few pieces framing her seemingly angelic face. However, her deep blue eyes betrayed her. They were the eyes of a natural born killer.
Perfect, and perfectly deadly, she was dressed to kill in a long black vinyl trench coat that showed off her muscular figure, miles of legs and deadly curves in all the right places. These two had a history and he knew she had every intention of holding it against him. And he was helpless to resist, for she, was his kryptonite.
After what seemed an uncomfortable eternity she finally spoke. "I have something you want and in return I want you as a training partner and a place to stay." Walking to the door, she turned to see his mouth wide open. "I assume my suite is the way I left it?" Dominik followed her down the hallway to what used to be her room. "This is absurd, if anyone finds out you are here..." Laughing cynically, she turned to him. "Don't you remember the phrase ‘hiding in plain sight’? No one will look for me in the supposed enemy’s house now will they?"
Opening the door to her room Anya stepped inside looking around for a moment. "Some things never change, aye Dom?" she said while undressing down to her lingerie. He stood in the hall outside her room stunned. "You are dismissed. I am tired it’s been a long trip. We shall catch up in the morning." With that she closed the door, turned out the light and quickly fell into a deep sleep.
Subsection II
The night was eerily quiet, except for the thundering of his boots across the rooftop and his heart pounding in his ears. He ran hard, as if his life depended upon it, chasing the shadow of a demon he couldn't seem to catch.
Light from the full moon illuminated the rooftop briefly as a cloud drifted past. Stopping briefly, his lungs burned from the frigid air. Gasping for breath, he sucked in the sweet elixir hoping that it would replenish him. For tonight was his best chance at capturing this wretched creature.
For months he had blended in the underground of New York City, waiting for something to happen. From the moment he laid eyes on her he knew she was the key. Somehow or another she always managed to elude him. Even now atop the rooftops of the city she still managed to escape him. With the greatest of ease she seemed to fly across the gaps in buildings, dodging arrows from his cross bow as though she had eyes in the back of her head or a precognitive gift.
Listening intently for any clue to where she was, he heard a rustling coming from near by, perking his ears up to hear it better, he began creeping across the rooftop with stealth that rivaled that of a cat.
Hidden in the shadows she watched him with great interest. For being such a large man he moved with grace and ease that she had only seen in her kind. He stood about 6'2 large frame of all muscle. With dark brown hair, almost black and dark good looks. She knew from the past few weeks that he was of Spanish descent.
"Senor Hunter" she called out to him mockingly. Her laughter chilled him to the bones as it echoed through the night.
Swiveling around he was startled, he was sure she would have been long gone by now. But he realized she was playing with him. A cold breeze grazed his cheek, sending an immediate tingling up his spine.
"What the hell are you, some kind of ghost too?" he called out. Suddenly he felt white hot pain as her boot met his temple. Dizzy and disoriented he stumbled in a circle trying to find her when she appeared out of the mist. Stalking towards him,”Here I am Senor Hunter, in the flesh and.....blood." Sarcasm dripped from her voice as she taunted.
Gripping his cross bow he lifted it up and aimed for her heart. Watching the arrow in slow motion head directly for her, suddenly she sprang up into the air and out of sight.
"What the holy hell is going on here" he thought to himself. It was like he was stuck in some bizarre nightmare. Feeling something on his neck, he found himself paralyzed. "Senor hunter, I am not usually the hunted I am usually the hunter" she whispered into his ear.
"Let go of me vampyress and fight me fair, if you know how.” It came out as more of a growl than a statement. "Aye, I always fight fair. I do not kill needlessly or for fun"
The feeling of her warm breath on his neck was making him ill but still he found himself unable to move.
"Oh a vampire with morals, how charming" he spat at her. Releasing him from whatever the power was that held him she spoke. "You want a fair fight you have got it, but this will be hand to hand combat for I have not tried to skewer you with anything sharp and I very well could have just now" Smiling devilishly revealing her long fangs.
Circling each other like prey, the longest battle of their lives was set to ensue. They battled for hours, back and forth in martial arts form. Only managing to pin her down once, his hands wrapped around her throat he became mesmerized. “You can end it all right here” the voice inside his head screamed. But he could not do it, for some reason he let go. Kicking out from underneath him, she stood before him bruised, bloodied and exhausted.
“Your weakness is not physical I see, Senor Hunter.” She whispered now hovering above him.
Visibly dazed by his inability to end the battle, he stared down at his hands, weary and yearning desperately for the end. Sensing this she did the only merciful thing she could, her boot connected with the side of his skull. He just relished the peacefulness as he was swallowed into the abyss, slipping deeper into blissful unconsciousness.
Upon awakening, he heard voices all around him. His head was throbbing and he had no recollection of where he was or how he got there.
“Anya he is awake” a gruff voice stated from nearby.
Leaning over the couch where he lay, was the vampyress.
“Where, where have you brought me?” he stammered.
“You are safe here Senor hunter, you are in the Ankh house” She said smiling down at him.
“Safe? You call this safe? Am I to understand that you have brought me to your coven?” panicking as he looked around into the faces of several vampires.
Everyone and everything around them stopped, the silence that followed was deafening.
“No Senor, I have brought you into my home, it would serve you well to learn the difference! Now, what is your name?” She snapped, trying to disguise the hurt in her eyes with coldness.
For some reason, in that instant he responded to the humanity in her, with a new found respect, he realized she was not what he thought, she was an enigma.
“It is Dominik” he said in a low, hushed voice suddenly ashamed of his actions.
(this is my original works and therefore is copyrighted to me)
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