You see the pale deer,
in your dreams late one night...
you hear its' monstrous breath,
against the suddenly cold air...
and see the darkness swarming about it,
you hear it speak...
in a voice like shattering glass.
'You must come away...
you must come away,
for they are drawing near...
they come with their trailing claws,
and misshaped faces...
and too-dark eyes,
groping for you in the darkness...
and so we must flee,
away across the pale dawn...
until our eyes see new light,
and we feel our bones unshackled...
please,
you have been summoned.
To a Gathering of Assortments...
Between the Sinister Meeting Rooms walls.
Now when you awake...
you must search at once for me,
only then will your path...
be revealed.'
The deer leaps into darkness...
and you awake.
You feel a manic restlessness...
fill your system up,
and you rise and begin to run...
begin to search,
faster and faster...
through the three a.m. dark,
of your house...
eventually you pass your bathroom,
cast in gloom and blue...
and you glimpse the briefest flash,
a deer of pure white...
within the reflection of your mirrors' gloom.
You stop and go inside,
as the door creaks into your ear...
you walk to face the mirror,
and see words scrawled there in white:
'We cannot say what though...
some great darkness found its' way in,
a door was unlocked...
and they did not shut it,
they could not shut it...
they stopped believing,
that there was even a door...
and meanwhile the light,
was eaten away...
but,
that is another matter entirely...
For,
you have been summoned...
To reach our Gathering of Assortments,
you must take the knife...
and smash this mirror,
open the portway...
and step within,
you will travel first past the Terror...
then the Myth Without Name,
before you pass through the Lonely Daark...
to reach our Summer Edge.
For where better to cavort...
than upon the edge of the sun,
the fleeting fractured doorway to the universe.
Come to us now...
if you please.'
You do as bid...
you take up the knife you had not before noticed,
upon the bath ledge...
you take it in hand,
and stab it into the centre of your mirror...
the glass warps and shatters away,
and you see revealed...
a wooden passageway.
The wood is damp...
and the smell of seaweed chokes the air,
you can hear the ocean through the cold walls...
you begin to walk,
upon its' creaking way...
only the dimmest of hurricane lamps,
light your path...
it grows darker and darker,
and the ocean roars louder...
and you hear your feet strike freezing water,
you continue to walk...
drawn irresistibly on,
by the words upon your mirror...
still you clutch the blade.
Soon there are no lanterns...
and the water grows more ferociously cold,
then ahead of you...
you see something shift forward,
a shape darker than the darkness...
It flies at you,
faster than your eyes can follow...
and then you feel its' tentacles around you,
suffocating you...
pulling you beneath the surface of the water,
you fight...
for you know that if you do not,
it shall surely kill you...
you pull free the knife,
and strike it within the heart...
you feel a part of the creature cling to you,
nibbling away at the memories...
and parts of your mind,
feeding...
and then you feel it crumble,
and fade...
and die.
Then...
you are free.
You travel on...
the knife left forgotten behind,
and towards a growing Autumn light...
a warmth thaws your bones,
and you feel a joy shiver through your being...
you pick up your pace,
as the wooden tunnel opens...
and sunlight floods within,
your eyes adjust and you see...
a forest the colour of treacle,
and with leaves a thousand shades of red...
great fields of pumpkins and sunflowers,
lay beyond the trees...
and the smell of cinnamon is strong in the air,
you follow a stream that is clear and filled with white stones.
You happen across a small stall,
beside the river edge...
a women like a ghost,
beautiful...
yet impossible to describe,
serves sweet pies and warm cakes...
she beckons suddenly to you,
and you draw closer...
she hands you a slice of steaming apple pie,
and cinnamon cream...
and she smiles indulgently at you.
'You must hurry on now Child...
for the winds are quickening,
since you killed the Terror...
You must eat this now for strength,
then fly...
fly with the wings of the tide,
and the storm...
but to pass,
to reach where you must go...
you must reach the end of the Lonely Daark.
I the Myth Without Name...
bid you to hold firm your mind,
lest you may lose it in the long path...
travel to its' end,
then spin twice upon the cliff edge...
call out the words,
'Lat Infinita'
and bow to the void...
go now dear,
and if you need me...
just utter my no-name.'
You travel on...
far from the smells of baking sweets,
and to where the trees grow dark...
and the warmth leaves the air,
as the last few golden lights of day...
wink out,
and the land is different...
as a road leads forward.
Through the mist long you trek...
as strange half-tunes sift out of the dark,
and peculiar moods...
swing in forgotten corners,
you hear a curse upon the wind...
a tale of old;
'We saw once...
three crows devour a butterfly,
they stood upon the cursed land...
and sanctioned their minds,
it was foretold that a cycle of mayhem...
would singe the land once every sixty-six years,
it would create of it a numbing disease...
that would blur the minds of humanity,
our desire for aggression...
to be struck instead of treated with kindness,
and to be doomed to wander...
a labyrinth of our minds,
until we are forced into acts of horror...
that was when the door was opened,
when the monsters got out...
or perhaps it was that they finally,
got in....
inside of us.
Travel on weary soul...
and yet do not slumber,
for we all know...
that if once you rest,
upon this horrid ground...
never again would you awake,
and perhaps if you did...
you would not be the same.'
You tread your way down...
the long and empty road,
the mist numbing your fingers...
and oh how the weariness in you grows,
and yet you remember the words...
and persevere on,
at times you sleep as you walk...
the cold Lonely Daark,
seems to extend for an eternity...
a million identical trees,
the same gloom-ridden road...
still the path continues,
and you begin to fear...
is there any way out?
Any further point...
or is this to be your eternity?
Then you spy,
behind an identical curve of tree...
the briefest spark of difference,
a wavering gentle path...
to a place beside the sea.
You feel in your bones that you must choose now...
to travel this Lonely Daark forevermore,
or jump and leap...
and choose this new path now,
you choose...
and you flee,
you race down the gentle path...
and find yourself suddenly upon,
a cliff overlooking a sea...
touched by sunlight and salt,
and then you remember the Myth without Name...
you remember her words.
You stand upon the very edge...
spin around twice,
and then chant...
'Lat Infinita.'
...and bow...
The sky caves in...
the colours of the land,
are sucked within in a chaos of shades...
and you feel an incredible force,
grip you and drag you inside...
For a while there is warm darkness,
and shimmering flashes of light...
and then you hear an incredible music,
filling up your world...
then again you are released,
and you open up your eyes...
You are near-blinded,
by a setting sun the size of a mountain...
dipped halfway below the ocean horizon,
you are upon a pale sandy beach...
edged by woods,
the warmth still lingers in the air...
and delicious smells waft on the breeze.
You see then a great tent...
draped in colours and pales,
from beneath which emits...
glowing lights,
laughter...
and dance,
a parade of souls...
As you draw nearer you glimpse,
what may have been a deer of white...
flying swiftly through the almost-dark woods,
and smiling perhaps at you...
You reach the door,
feeling relief deep in your spirit...
when you see the sign above that proclaims,
'Gathering of Assortments.'
You have arrived...
within you glimpse a myriad of faces,
it is impossibly large within...
golden mirrors,
elephants that lurk in corners...
delights passed freely about,
and a chequered face...
with a sly smile in their eyes,
who offers their hand to you...
'We are all just wind-trails here,
so why not dance the night away...?
for we feed on oblivion,
and see the Lights of the Universe...
parade across our skies,
so we can see as we are...
Stay as long as you might,
and when you wish to leave...
only utter the words that brought you here.
Until then Wanderer dear...
enjoy your night.'
Hey there Dear Creatures,
My life has become filled with half-shades, sometimes more and more like the twilit zone.
We are all masks and curious automatons embedded with locks for which we have lost the keys.
Our lives are being chipped away and the leeches are growing....growing...
Much Love,
Miss CLScarlett xx
