~The Dragon Flies' Lair IV~

November 7, 2003 | bentfeather

[Soaring Feather]

My Dragon Fly and Me

If I could be a Dragon Fly
and wing my way through the sky
I would never be shy
just me and my Dragon Fly!

By moonlight we ride the wind
chase the comets tail for fun
by day we would hide from the sun
our fragile wings would come undone

On darkest nights we would use
fireflies as our guide
we would dip and we would glide
through the heavens open wide
and scatter diamonds in the night sky
my Dragon Fly and I...

And we would wing past our lovers
silent in the night...
to kiss their face in our flight
much to their surprise and delight
my Dragon Fly and me in sight...

Such a view do we share
away up here in the air
of breezes soft through our hair
my Dragon Fly and me a pair...

bentfeather©

[Soaring Feather]

Yes, I guess so....I would like to see it in a poem..

You can write some stanzas for it and I will write some,
okay?? Got time??

[Darksheare]

There's at least three seperate versions of that song.

*chuckle*

Evanescence - Give Unto Me

I've been watching you from a distance
The distance sees through your disguise
All I want from you is your hurting
I want to heal you
I want to save you from the dark

Give unto me your troubles
I'll endure your suffering
Place onto me your burden
I'll drink your deadly poison

Why should I care if they hurt you
Somehow it matters more to me
Than if I were hurting myself
Save you (save you)
I'll save you

Give unto me your troubles
I'll endure your suffering
Place onto me your burden
I'll drink your deadly poison

Fear not the flame of my love's candle
Let it be the sun in your world of darkness
Give unto me all that frightens you
I'll have your nightmares for you
If you sleep soundly

Give unto me your troubles
I'll endure your suffering
Place onto me your burden
I'll drink your deadly poison

Fear not the flame of my love's candle
Let it be the sun in your world of darkness
Give unto me all that frightens you
I'll have your nightmares for you
If you sleep soundly

Fear not the flame of my love's candle
Let it be the sun in your world of darkness

[Soaring Feather]

>And, also, a small bit of inspiration from your quote and a bit of a drawing I did (self-portrait of just my eyes) for a sign.<

You're a sign painter, into graphic arts??

[Darksheare]

I got time.
Not sure what to write to equal the first line.
*chuckle*

[Darksheare]

No, just a sign for a studio that does not exist yet.

Grandpa was the sign painter.
I inherited a paltry amount of his talent.

[Soaring Feather]

  Haunted eyes are broken windows with tattered curtains of the soul blowing in the wispy breezes of the fires of eternity...

tattered curtains
wispy breezes of the fires
of eternity...leap high
in midnight sky
from broken castles
of olden time
and gargoyles creep
round in shadow deep
ready to pounce
on headless horses
ride the wind
ghost rides night
black knights horror
clanging tower bells
hunched old men
dressed in burlap
leather thongs
black X on the cape
dark riders weep

See what you can do with that..

[Darksheare]

Haunted eyes are broken windows with tattered curtains of the soul blowing in the wispy breezes of the fires of eternity...
Staring empty from a balcony on the cobwebbed tower beyond the chasm
Surveying the arctic realm from a solitude fortress inside their heart
Solitary heir to the stone throne in shadowmere, tomorrow's home, yesterday's grave
Riding high on the wings of eventide without the warmth of the sunlit sky
Always hungering for the briefest touch to warm the tattered soul behind the haunted eyes..

[Soaring Feather]

That's good Dark.

[Darksheare]

????
Still doesn't equal the first line.
*smiling snort*
I dunno, I'll get these 'flashes of prescience' with extreme clarity of thought... and write one line liek that.
Then as suddenly as it appeared it leaves.
And I'm left looking at one line and going, "Ummm.. where'd this come from?"

[Soaring Feather]

Yes, that does happen at times for me, often I do not write them down. But what really puts my wig in a snit is to write an entire poem in my head and then not be able to transfer it to paper. Oh this one really gets to me.

[Darksheare]

Did that in the shower today...
Had it almost entirely composed, went to put it down and it literally took off at warp speed.

[Soaring Feather]

Darksheare, have you heard of the kantele??
Click the kantele to learn and listen to the music.
This music is from my grandmother's country Finland.
It was not invented there, however.
The kantele is played through-out Scandinavia.
The kantele players often go into trance when playing the kantele.

[Darksheare]

Looks and sounds a bit like a dulcimer..

[Darksheare]

My sweating face
eyes agleam
Am I asleep?
Is this a dream?
My darkest fears
Reality
Crawling around
the sheets again
Screaming inside my mind
my friend
Feeling cold
I cannot scream
Cannot wake,
Do not dream!
Am I asleep?
is this a dream?
Crawling around
the sheets again
Screaming inside my mind
my friend
Creeping mist
dampened face
I see my foe
and he is me
It cannot be
That evil gleam...

[Soaring Feather]

The struggle of light and dark
reality and the dream world
is it true I am me and
I am you when will
it end
do I, you want it to??

[Darksheare]

*chuckle*

My one recurring nightmare deals with my greatest enemy wearing my face, or being me..

[Soaring Feather]

Good night Darksheare.

[Soaring Feather]

Good morning everyone.

[Soaring Feather]

Our Trikebuilder left this on Thread III last night. I wanted for everyone to see it.

Thank you so much Trike. Beautiful work.


Ancient Lessons In Burning Stone

The sharp edged stygian mountain rose seven miles into the ebony sky,
and down its ash scarred flank ran the tears of cloud battered on its stony spire.
Nothing grew upon it then or now, and won’t even as eternity draws nigh,
for its the blasted place where even Gods dwell not among it lurid fire.

It sits above the flat plain covered in hardened ash of ages gone by,
and nothing moves except the wind, and even it seems to terrify.
The volcano is called Eachi, the ‘tower of lost souls’, or so the tales cry,
and the plain is known as Guldor, where all life goes to die.

For leagues around the stories are told of the day the mountain was born,
amid the crash of hellish storm, and falling stars, and cites that brightly burned.
Some said it was in vengeance, for appeasing a terrible God with horns,
but others are closer to the truth when they speak of stolen God’s fire in bloom.

The surface of the world was broken on that day, deep unto the core,
and out flowed the fire of molten rock, to spew heat and poison there.
Life was taken in numbers like sand under the reddened sun and more,
and weak and strong perished in a breath on Goldor’s plain, in despair.

Now only death holds court here, as the dark wind sings its empty song,
and speaks of fools so cruel they made the Gods lay waste to them at last.
Their mistakes were simply legend, and each told of their final wrong,
when they struck out at the Gods and lost as fools do, shamefast.

Perhaps the gods will try again, to build a better world for someone yet to come,
and I hope they learn the things that the others missed in their mindless hate.
To become worthy of all the gifts of God, and stop with greed so dumb,
for only by accepting the duties as foretold, will life expand and beat this fate.

Live with care and go not close to Eachi standing there, so tall and deadly fair,
nor try to cross the stark plains of Guldor grand, or suffer yet another fate.
Learn from their mistakes, and tread not their ash draped lonely graves there,
but go beyond and find the place that they would not seek, their greed to sate.

[Conspiracy Guy]

Morning Bentfeather. Just dropped in and I'm dropping right back out. See ya later. Lots to do.