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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Arrogant, Dreamer of the Forest's Illusionsdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Twisted
    Elite Ratio:    7.47 - 159/57/75
    Words: 733
    Class/Type: Random Thoughts/Vampire
    Total Views: 882
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 4105



    Description:
       Another chapter, number eight, "


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsArrogant, Dreamer of the Forest's Illusionsdots
    -------------------------------------------


    He sat in the silence that had become so easy to abandon a dream in, another rose held in his hand.

    “ Beware of plucking the black rose from the stranger’s garden.” A voice behind him warned.

    He turned, if slightly, to study who dared to interrupt his careful meditation.

    “ And where the white face of a woman’s wrath emerge from the black pool, be wary of it.”

    There were only shadows; a sage perhaps of the dark wisdom of many lives.

    “ And what do you know fool?”

    He was old, he was tired, he had lived through all the wars without a love.

    “ I know plenty. Perhaps to much. Will help me find my mirror?” He asked, eyes glistening with suspicion.

    “ Mirror?” He question, calculating that time it will take to regain his lost song.

    “ Yes, the one that goes to the broken tower.”

    “ The broken tower? What do you know of that?”

    The old man turned, his cape across his figure, his nose held proudly in the air.

    “ I told you. I know plenty.”

    Arrogant, dreamer of the forest’s illusions.

    “ Who are you?”

    “ I am, a sage of shadows. Keeper of illusions, guider to the Muse’s Eyes.”

    He turned away. “ I have no reason to help you.”

    “ I know your fate, I know of the woman you love, but can never have. Tell me about her, then I shall go.”

    “The wind whispered to the trees, and the owl answered back.” He whispered as they stood in silence.

    “ She always makes apple pie, and forgets to put in the sugar, then whispers how bitter life is.”

    “ She forgets to cast her net out into the sea, and another few drown.”

    “ She lives to a book about life, and then fantasizes about death.”

    “ She can give me breath, but she sits there without a regret.”

    “ She powerful and light like water, but she loves a black flame.”

    “ She can weave the tales of the moon, so bright, but welcomes that dark side each night.”

    “ She can tell the truth and be innocent, but whisper lies and smile of deceit.”

    “ Her kiss is so soft and fulfilling, but her passion filled eyes suffocate and leave a man empty.”

    “ She loves that ones who are alive, and always watches those who are dead.”

    “ She has poetry in her body, taut with a lover’s touch you draw back from a poison.”

    “ Her love is an wine meant to be savored, and her tears are a poison meant to sip.”

    “ She can make a man hate her, but then make him want her and her love some more.”

    “ She can draw the bow, and sing like an angel, but her arrow breaks, and she can’t fly.”

    “ Her moan is a caress, her whisper a song, that keep you up all night long.”

    “ Her scent is an aphrodisiac, her demons hungry for blood.”

    “ She faces a million demons, and always winds up alone.”

    “ To drink from her is eternal life, and to turn away is the whisper of death.”

    “ She has watched the ancient wars, learned their techniques, and lost some many battles.”

    “ She can wander aimlessly and always know where she is.”

    “ She can’t fly, but can change her wings from silver to black.”

    “ She is everyone and everything, but you can never see her because of her mask.”

    “ She makes me laugh, I watch her cry, she gives me life, I let her die.”

    “ Sometimes she can fly with golden wings, she is my end, she is my origin.”

    “ She is so pure, yet she is my sin.”

    The old man nodded, gathering his robes, and trodden off.

    “ She is my heart, she is my rose.”

    He looked down at the broken rose in his hand.

    “She is like a black rose, dark and soft as a petal, and she can be hungry for blood like a thorn.”





    Submitted on 2006-09-07 16:36:57     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      another confusing one it was good there was some lines in there i just adored!!! but it was confusing but i could tell who was talk ing i like the concept of this poem/story it was relly good!! well keep writing

    talk later

    *FireFlye*
    | Posted on 2006-12-07 00:00:00 | by fireflye | [ Reply to This ]
      It's a very moving story, though I got confused some ways along. Maybe it would help (me) a bit if you indicated who was talking during the dialogue.

    Great work.

    - Fougene
    | Posted on 2006-11-05 00:00:00 | by Fougene | [ Reply to This ]
      It's like a riddle. But who is this woman that captures his heart?
    Katana
    | Posted on 2006-11-05 00:00:00 | by Katana Ryoko | [ Reply to This ]


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