La Forteresse...

 
 

La Forteresse...

 

Lat Infinita.

 

Welcome back...

 

to

 

ilmaginareum Macabrett.

 

 

 

 .......

 

 

 

Today we invite you...

dear Sir and MadMadam,

to walk our boardwalks...

by the light of our bloodthirsty moon.

 

Shortly you will reach a place...

where someone,

will be waiting for you...

If you please,

do venture on...

 

 

 

 

Make haste,

for the night has teeth...

and the creatures listen,

beneath the waters...

of this vast and vast ocean,

dark and fabulous...

 

You walk forward,

through air that brushes its' chilling fingers...

against your skin,

wind so sharp...

that it carves patterns upon your face,

the way the boardwalks groan...

and shift,

the small whisperings beneath...

the strange echoes,

high up in the dark...

the walkway winds,

and curves...

 

In parts you venture through fog,

so deep and blinding...

physical and shifting,

that it suffocates your mind...

your lungs,

throws shards....

 through the rivers of your blood,

where faces grin out through the white...

those you have lost,

those you have forgotten...

long past where we no longer go,

where the dust gathers in worlds...

and the centuries where we have closed our eyes.

 

You follow the boardwalk as it drops...

just below the waterline,

and the fog c l e      ars...

 

You see the great creatures,

that slip and writhe beneath the waters' surface...

near where your feet slide,

the colours...

the glint of teeth,

trails of darkness...

coral,

and hands...

reaching up about the mould-ridden walkway,

the currents that swirl about your ankles...

the salt that clings to your skin and throat,

gentle waves and a brightening sky...

of eternal blue,

endless horizon...

Gentling breeze,

and you see...

Rising higher from the water,

the boardwalks end...

Upon which rests,

a tent...

a pavilion,

resplendent...

and yet as quiet all about,

as the way the earth turns...

The door is open,

shadows lie within...

and a sign angles its' crumbling way by the door.

 

 

ilmaginareum Macabrett

Presents...

As an honoured guest,

Of...

La Forteresse,

we give you...

 

De Saint Louis.

 

You step through the doorway,

and find yourself...

in the smallest of bazaars.

 

You glimpse faded colours...

Bones worn away,

heady scents...

Curious delights,

volumes etched with dust...

At its' centre,

perched amongst the shadows...

sits a being.

 

His face is a mask,

that both laughs and screams...

and he has a presence of dust,

of things that time has rubbed away but not destroyed...

an eternal enigma,

shadows surround him like a cloak...

and way back there,

somewhere in the dark...

feathers or leaves shift,

the weight of something heavy...

a deep fire.

 

 

 

He lifts his head...

and his eyes dance a dark dance,

as he inclines his head to you...

Briefly his wolf-like teeth flash out to you,

in a grin as fleeting as the lightning...

 

'Writing a story,

is like writing a song...

creating a symphony.'

the being laughs.

'A stage waiting...

to be filled with the light,

we weave into images...

That we channel,

into notes of fire...

that they can taste,

hear and see.

This is now the teaching you must learn...

to attain the eternal laugh,

the backwards grin...

The jesters foolhardy.

 

 

This is how they taught us the way...

If the horror comes for you,

open the door...

run and dance to meet the monster,

stare it in the face...

get right up close and good,

and scream laughter at it...

Often the darkness finds ways,

to get inside...

to find a way in no matter the light,

you have held to...

To live in such a state,

is not possible...

For eventually,

all of what is your heart shall be torn apart...

by their hunger,

their spite of all creation...

all that was good,

all sanity...

and reason,

until everything is warped.

The only way...

is to reach an affinity with the chaos,

to balance the line...

Some choose to wear the Darkness upon their face,

to take up the knife...

to pull on with glee the mantle of madness,

anger...

the Dark itself,

as the mask it is...

You parade the mask,

take on the terrifying humour...

To ensure the demons let well enough alone,

to sub-exist in the labyrinth...

You must become the epiphany of balance,

 So that to the Darknesses that plague you...
You are one of them.

The time will come...
when you will set that mask on fire,
grin as they see the true light that your illusion of darkness...
hid,
that they would see the Dark...
and accept it as a part of you but separate,
what will one day...
be let drop to the ground,
while we run and shriek away...
Faster then than all the winds of the world,
where we take back those arms of the Heavens...
that enabled us flight,
that let us unshackle these chains...
and see the true power,
we held...
What we abused,
and distorted...
Now we are flight,
and we are the storms...
the deep rumbles,
the centre of this universe...
its' engravings,
its' turnings...
Its' pulse.
So we rest in this stead...
and pull out the blade,
shatter the reflection that leers at us...
and set these sails alight,
as we seek the shores...
That have always held captive,
our hearts of stone...
and breathed them living again.
Eternal.
Remember my words...
The words of,
De Saint Louis...
and turn the tides.
Go back now...
and open your eyes.'

Lat Infinita...

...La Forteresse.

Into Forever...

...Into this Fortress.

 

 

 

  Much love to you all... Something is changing, can't you feel it? Hopefully, I will be permitted to write to you again sometime soon and if not then for Autumn's first breath.

 

  Miss CLScarlett xx