Reasons you might be a Dragon...

• You collect trinkets, treasures, little talismans, shiny things and precious gems.
• You greet people with friendly little growls.
• If someone annoys you you hiss at them.
• You stay awake all night and sleep all day.
• You love nothing better than to curl up in a patch of sunlight or else deep in a cocoon of blankets.
• You horde books (because OF COURSE dragons love to read).
• You love smoking or hot drinks because you love to watch the patterns of smoke.

• You daydream of flying through the skies.
• You horde EVERYTHING.
• You enjoy lurking in unsuspecting corners.
• You are either intensely merry or intensely gloomy.
• You hold a particular fascination for knives and flame.
• You think deeply. Too deeply. Your mind is an ocean!
• You yearn for a place, a world that you cannot find.

• Inside you are a maelstrom or else, a floating leaf.
• You always watch the skies.
• The SKIES.
• You are fearless but watchful.

• You think of others as curious, sad, adorable little munchkins.
• You feel as though you have lived many lives, or that you do not belong to this world.

• You treasure and keep rituals.
• You have few friends but the ones you do have you would give your life to protect.
• Your fury is immense and your calm is fathoms wide.
• You are highly intelligent, highly creative and highly vain.
• You live with your head in the clouds.

Just some of the many reasons why you too might irrefutably be a dragon.

   Much love this night,

The Ghost Raven

   Miss C.L.Scarlett xx

Sun Blossoms Falling...

The Sun Blossoms are falling...

Over white fields of winter,

Paved frost upon the bow of hill...

Wind caught dust,

Firelight side...

Our memories turn deeply.

Shift amidst sleep,

These trees bared silver...

Watch with far-sight eyes,

Across the meadows, the gullies, the Brooks...

Turning softly,

Fine crescents upended in sky...

Moths float down,

Crown these arches of Heather and beaten Ash...

Press deeper into the wood.

Through furrows dug deep down...

Clear gleam upon melting tyrants,

Song muffled through snow-laced forestscapes...

Secret hymns dashed upon lint and ice crust,

Burning hidden within...

Ghostly call echo,

The wolves...

Spirits of dust,

A moving prism of spears...

How the murk twists between the trunks,

Follow the sound...

To halls of timber,

Crashing song...

Burning ember,

Mead upon the copper...

Wreaths of Holly upon the pillars,

A dance wreathed in light...

Shadow,

Un-resting night...

Inclined ear upon sparrows thought,

The Sun Blossoms have fallen.

These moons be full,

The Dark garbs itself with firelight...

The sky whispers secrets past,

The old ones they move...

Beneath the moon-glow,

Travel they past our door...

Their breath frosted upon windowpane and heart,

Tyrannical skies...

Wound-up clockwork heart.

Seize the bone,

Lift the knife...

Make a wish for the lovers who have fled to the wilds.

The saints who feast on their shore,

The colours the night parts,

The bells chime across this wilderness...

Calling us home,

To hearth,

From war...

Long winter's,

Bitter storms,

Aging hearts...

A tear dropped down into the abyss.

Dark holes peering up like sightless eyes...

And in their midst we slumber.

Carry on now...

Back to guided arches,

Snow lands coloured with gold.

As the Sun Blossoms fell...

For our memories be lanterns,

Floating through this eternal night,

A wayward sailor...

Lost within the fantasies of sea,

Seeks out his lighthouse tonight.

The wind howls,

The storms breathe...

The cold bars our way,

Sweet music guides us home...

To festive halls,

And dancing lights...

Remember the Summer,

Remember the Dark...

Recall the whispered realms.

Oaken doors open wide,

Emitting an intoxicating sight...

A home to set,

Upon easy sight...

A cup of warm cider,

Spiced meat and pie...

To dance with another,

A touch gentle and not cold...

Close the doors,

Shut the Winter out...

For at very last we are home,

Found.

Nightwebs Still Spinning...

The nightwebs are spinning...

Do you see them? Can you hear them?

Glistening there, in the dark.

Adorning wreaths upon the branches bare bone...

Listen to the voice in the dark.

Their weavers they form from stars and dust...

Their movements,

Their clicks...

Their nightly embark.

Watch the nightwebs curling,

Through our dreams, our tears...

Nightwebs still spinning,

Through the dark.

Watch them float up.

Nightwebs still spinning...

Close your eyes,

Count to ten.

Watch all the clocks,

Spun old with time...

Watch the universe,

Spun over with lines...

We are all of us spinning,

In this toys bright eye.

A speck of dust,

A planet lost...

Oceans colliding,

Covered in frost.

Why are you shivering?

The nightwebs are spinning...

Down down the dark way we go,

Fall down,

Float up.

The dust scatters down...

These fine weavers,

We hide.

Catch us...

Dust-ghost,

A jab in the dark...

Spun across wide,

Always we are falling.

The nightwebs are spinning...

Watch us,

Watch us float up.

Dead dark night,

Still the nightwebs are spinning.

We fall.

Miss C.L.Scarlett xx

The Horse Museum...

Come to the horse museum with me,

We'll go there at a quarter past three...

We'll ride around the chimney chutes,

And practice dancing with a mute...

Come let's ride the oven chair,

And carry strange martini's inside our hair...

We'll dance until the break of dawn,

Little Muppet and Mr. Storm...

Come let's take the last boat out,

And when the sea becomes quiet we'll scream and shout,

Follow these labyrinthine desires...

Through the Maelstrom's heart,

And back into our cage,

What a practiced art.

Tonight we'll be cats, tonight we'll be ruins...

Our sinking castles suite us quite fine,

King and queen of nothing...

Come to the horse museum with me,

Maybe at last we can be free.

I'll kiss you between wake and sleep...

Come to the horse museum with me.

Handy Things

 Number one thing to know as a Writer (and probably as any kind of Artist too)...
mail that shit to yourself.
Anything you write or create, mail it, email it to yourself. The more copies the merrier and also the more gunpowder you have in the arsenal if Ren-Tixo-Shooter comes at you claiming that you stole his story. (In short-speak, good if you want to protect your work).
    Now I don't know all there is to know about writing and the vast concepts of Universal Grammar (which people should look up it's fascinating), but I've had a pretty crash-course self-taught and mysteriously guided entrance into the world of writing.
   Most of these tips are just things I picked up along the way.
  So tip two...
THERE ARE NO RULES...time to RAAAAAGE!!!!!!
 It's still kinda the learn them break them concept. If you have nothing to teach you then, learn from everything. Read as much as you can. Want to write Steampunk? READ Steampunk. Want to create your own style? (I know, the big taboo) Read everything, at some point they'll create a category to fit your style. I would also highly recommend, even if you're self-taught, to get a degree. You never know what you might find out. I have been challenged, inspired, had some of the most gratifying moments to do with my writing. It's also marvelous to be able to speak to other writers who are in the same head space as you.
   Tip Three...look into Licences. This may sound odd but if you've got any completed work online, on your computer or otherwise, or a Blog, it may help you avoid thieves. Go check the CCL website out when you have a moment. It's free, and you just copy and paste the image/words to the bottom of each page.
   Last tip for now...
WRITE. There is never a good time to write. It must be now.
YOU SHOULD BE WRITING.

 

The joints and cartilage of a Story...

 

  I thought I'd try a little something that's been on my mind for a while and then perhaps, you can tell me yours. Below I have placed a mix-matched list of every book, movie and show that has inspired my writings. It's a refreshing activity that really helps you reflect on what brought you to this point as a writer. I'd recommend everyone trying it...

•   The Magical Forest. (A tale my Mother would tell me when I was little. A magical forest in which lived Uni the Unicorn, Swanny the Swan, Caraleena and Carabeena the Dolphins. They had many wonderful adventures together).
• The Last Unicorn.
• Tabaluga.
• The Swan Princess I - III.
• The Unicorns of Balinor (Mary Stanton).
• The Land Before Time.
• Spirit: Stallion of the Cimmaron.
• GetEd
• Code Lyoko
• Class of the Titans.
• Anastasia.
• All Dogs Go To Heaven.
• The Hunchback of Notre Dame.
• The Road to El Derado
• Rowen of Rin (Emily Rodda).
• The Wind Singer Trilogy. (William Nicholson).
• The Wintering Trilogy. (Stephen Bowkett).
• The Starthorn Tree (Kate Forsyth).
• The Fire Within (Chris d'Lacey).
• The Dream Merchant (Isobel Hoving).
• Bolto
• Zelda: Ocarina of Time.
• The Flesh Market (Nicola Morgan).
• Spirited Away.
• Jennie (Paul Galico).
• The Call of the Wild (Jack London).
• MIB
• Species.
• The Crystal Mask (Katherine Roberts).
• A Little Princess (the movie).
• The Angel's Game (Carlos Ruiz Zafon.)
• Here There Be Dragons (James A. Owen).
• Dragonkeeper (Carole Wilkinson).
• The Chronicles of Narnia (C.S.Lewis).
• The Harry Potter Series (J.K.Rowling).
• Sinbad.
• SuperMario Sunshine.
• Nancy Drew.
• Steppenwolf (Hermann Hesse).
• The Tale of Despareaux (Kate DiCamillo).
• Clair de Lune (Cassandra Golds).
• The Pendragon Series (D.J.MacHale).
• The Left Behind Series (Time LaHaye and Jerry B. Jenkins).
• A Series of Unfortunate Events (Lemony Snicket).
• The Lord of the Rings (Books, movies and poetry).
• Atlantis.
• Monsters Inc.
• The Night Circus (Erin Morgenstern).
• The Rise of the Guardians.
• The Long Road of the Junkmailer (Patrick Holland).
• A Wrinkle in Time (movie and book) (Madeleine L'Engle) and A Wind in the Door.
• Noughts and Crosses (Malorie Blackman).
• Eragon Series (Christopher Paolini).

I have decided to cut off the list there, as there are many more. Let me know if you have read or seen any of these and why not post your own list?

  Pleasant dreams and magnificent thoughts,

Miss C.L.Scarlett xox

P.S. I received my first gift of the year, a small engagement pledge if you will. It is I believe, another example of the way stories and words can manifest, namely in this case and for me, in relation to Lyla's Lake. The Sun and the Moon, on a ring that just happens to only fit my ring finger. Hohum...

Stepping onto the Train...

 
Hey there...
 ...all you travellers of the wayward side...

   We've reached a turn, finally made it to the shores of a new year, maybe even a new era in our lives.
  It feels like something's tapping at my window, that something's tapping at all our windows...
  And I think I want to let it in.
This year is the year I want to say that I did that. In saying, I'm starting slow, one building block at a time.
   And I'd kinda like to take you along.
I want to enter the writing world beyond just the writing. 
  To be found we must be seen.
My first destination this New Year, is to once a month go to a writing event.
  My sights are set on the Melbourne Literary Salon. Held on the 31st of January 6 pm Federation Square. I have other plans too, to once or twice a week go to some kind of writing, book-related event.
 Over the period of 2017 - 2019 it is my aim to achieve publication for my first book: 
  The MatchSpark Revellings: Volume I. The beginning of an End.
  I will take you through the whole path, from editing, events, competitions, the whole shebang that is involved in reaching publication.
   With some delights and the return of some old friends thrown in for good measure.

    Imagine, making sure every day is devoted in some way towards our goal, to making it happen.
   You never know what's just around the corner...
  In delirium after binging on fruit mince pies...
  Next step is getting a job and a flat...a space to create. With a job I can get to even more events.
    
    (A small description of my first book...)

   My Book is about a dragon who was a girl. A monster with a God-complex and a boy with ocean eyes and a heart of electricity. It is a tale about being in the darkness and finding your way back again.
  
  All my love and wishes for 2017.

Miss C.L.Scarlett xox

Lyla's Lake

There was a girl, whose Father was the Moon. Her hair was the hue of moonlight, her eyes the color of the Sun: her Mother, it is said. She was born in a time before the foundations of the earth were laid, and in the spaces of darkness she would play the mandolin. Play music to the stars that was so beautiful, great hosts of stars would perform dance. Some used to say that the whole of the universe moved in time, in dance to her melody and that if she were to stop playing, the world would stop...even cease to be.
  She was happy and yet, often she would look down upon the earth, and pine for the men she would see wandering its expanse.
  For she was lonely.
  One in particular - a man of the ocean - captured her heart. Day after day she would watch him from her cove in the sky. At night, her songs twisted in New ways for him. But a Daughter of the skies can no more touch the earth, or love, than a child of the earth could touch the skies. It was said, that her pining grew so great that she began to search the universe for a way, a way to be with he who she loved. Eventually, she went to the lowest, deepest realm and found in there a Primordial Darkness. It whispered to her another story. That if she were to give her heart to It, she would be able to set foot on the earth and be with he who love her. There would be a further price though, the Darkness murmured. She would never be able to return to the Heavens but be doomed to walk the earth for eternity.
  The girl agreed, her pain too great to refuse. She gave the Primordial Darkness her heart and left that place. When at last she found her way to earth, she searched high and low for the man. When at last she found him though, she discovered only dust within herself. She felt nothing for the man. It was only then that she realized her mistake. She could not love a man when already she had given her heart to the darkness. 
  She left the man and wandered the earth until sorrow overwhelmed her utterly. She fell to her knees and began to weep. She wept for a century and, slowly, a great lake formed from her tears. Many more years passed and at last, the Moon looked down upon his Daughter, his silent fury at her actions long spent and his heart filled with mercy. Though he could not undo her curse, he placed on her a gift, of a kind.
  He bid her presence to become one with the lake, allowed her spirit to roam free within its vast waters. There she remains, in a world of peace, apart, yet close. There she plays her music.
  It is said that when people drown in the lake, they can hear Lyla's music right before the dark takes them and that it is she that leads them to the next world, to the Heavens, where those souls become stars and for that brief, brief moment she can step amongst the skies again.

...

                                 

  'I am what I am, as are you my dear...and what belies our nature settles within us our souls, forever mute, forever unyielding...just as it is, and as it shall be, for it is the one thing that time and death cannot steal. That which lingers on...into eternity itself...' (Leviathan)

The Road to Colder Lands...

  Something stirring...
Listen, Listen.
 Listen to what lies within...
Come now,
  Step closer a little...
Let me take a good look at you,
Now, just breathe...
  Look into my eyes now,
Let your heart still...
  Just drift away,
Allow me to see...
  And now my dear,
Truly you are lost...

  Ah but please mon Cheri,
Allow me,
 Allow us...
To introduce ourselves.
  We are the still silence...
Crackling in the corners of your mind,
  The pale figures that haunt your...
Afterthoughts, afterimages...
  Through your dreams we follow,
The thinnest of webs that twine through your subconscious...
  We who pierce our hooks through dreamcatchers,
  Stealing the beads there...
Snatching souls.
  For we glide...
We float.
  We drive insanity with chains,
With whips...
   And ever so soon,
It is you who seek us...
  Oh at first it is tentative, yes,
The steps we make,
  Into your realms...
Into your mind.
  But we are there in the darkness,
Where your whispers fade into silence.
  Yes...
We are the impulsion in your demise.
  Your poison,
Your madness...
  We the sweet bitter end,
Your voice of fate...
  We who sleep where the worms creep...
Where a glimmer of light sparks for eternity,
  We thread our way...
Through your heart, head, soul,
  We will not rescue you,
From your prisons...
 Oh no.
We cannot hide you from the horrors,
  But we will be the embrace that holds you together...
  When you are shattering.
The silent word in the midst of your chaos...
  The claws that brush your shoulder,
And hold you back from the abyss...
  Whisper that you will always run...
Always fly away,
  My dear...
You cannot always disappear,
  But perhaps...
Just this once,
  We can show you a way out...
And hear now,
  To the oldest of rhymes...
Pack your things,
  Leave somehow...
Blackbirds song,
  Is over now...
Rivers dry,
  Pastors bed....
Dead dead dead.
  So go child's,
Bide your time,
  Then seize the chance...
Leave,
  Start again...
Don't fear,
  For we stand beside you...
When none else shall,
  Trust us...
For who else sees you as we do?
  Do not fear...
For blackbirds song,
  Is over now...
Travel the coastal road,
  Past the many seas...
Through lands of wildflower and gnarled tree,
  To a land colder and far away...
Nestle within the candlelight glow of her stormy shores...
   Grey churning sky,
Wind that touches your skin with an icy embrace,
  Of trees where ghosts whisper...
Where wolves fashioned from rain,
  Dart and wind through the aged forests...
Sounds that creak beneath the rich earth,
  Her waves that roar and unfurl ...
The land that lies within all your hidden memories,
  Behind the pages of the story...
Way back way.
  To there you shall fly...
There you shall be safe,
  There your island awaits...
Perchance.
  Walk our way,
Keep your minds eye on that distant glow...
   And one day soon,
You will step away from their suffocation
  Unlatch their chains...
And fly,
  Nothing but distant, fading memories behind you.
  So seek...
And know that we are here,
  Settle still...
Bequeath your souls to us.
  And you will be free.

The White Gate

What binds us keeps us...

A door through the dark,

into the dark...

Again and again the acid burns its' way through us,

Making us sick,

Making us murderers...

While we silently count these hours,

And wait in the shadows...

We are the monsters in your closet,

We who creep beneath beds and boards...

See yourself disappearing,

Always disappearing.

We are ghosts...

The trails of the living?

Man we haven't walked those trails in forever...

Laugh, because otherwise,

You'll pick up the knife and really use it this time...

Oh and by the way,

By the way...

There was something,

Something we remember...

A face in the dark,

A white door in the dark...

We espied a white door,

Upon the distant sand...

The aged stars whirring above,

The salt waves that coiled...

Step through its' doors,

Step away from the world awhile...

To a place where rabbits search the galaxies,

where octopuses waited in ballrooms and carousels sparkled in the late night streets.

Stare at the reflection, and realize that it does not belong to you...

It never belonged to you,

And the truth we hide from ourselves...

The way that is closed.

That door leads only to him,

Unto his sweet demise...

Don't worry Scar, that is neither here nor there, better now rather than later and really, don't you see? I am as possessive of you as she is with he...

Scar

Fly Blue Night...

And today I set forth... 

To fly to the land of the cloud,  

To hunt demons and mystical mountains... 

I go. 

And to write, 

Fair well land of cruelty and scorched beauty... 

I am no longer bound by this boa constrictor. 

Scar xx

The Goblin King - a small tribute....

Sing your heart of fire... 

Wings of dawn lift you up, 

And take you to new light... 

New heart. 

New sky. 

There you dance and laugh and shine. 

RIP

David Bowie

January 8th 1947 - January 11th 2016

Join me in your own Remember David Bowie day each January 11th.

Remember the man who was out of this universe and who taught us how to survive the Labyrinth. 

Wear something beyond crazy -  that you'd never wear -  and post to your media in his honor. 

May you ever live in our hearts. 

Scar xx

Encyclopedia of Slip-ways.... Mirrors

Mirrors are dangerous and not to be taken idely. 

DO NOT ever look into a mirror in the dark. 

Doing so can trap a fracture of your soul within there

Mirrors are doorways and a form of slip-way. 

The oldest story -  or one of them -  about mirrors is that the devil made a mirror.  All who looked into the mirror became warped in soul,  and would see the world as ugly.  The devil attempted to fly to heaven to warp heaven itself but the mirror broke. It shattered into a million pieces and fell back to earth. Some people got it in their eyes and others made mirrors from the pieces. Still others got pieces stuck in their heart: creating cruelty,  hatred and malice in mankind. 

It is also said that the Snow Queen -  Winter herself -  tried to re-build the mirror. She needed every piece and so would take people who still had a fracture of that mirror within them. 

An entity,  a spirit haunts all mirrors,  it is malevolent and terrifying and was created by the ammassed legion of spirits who passed violently before a mirror. 

Mirrors are not always so dangerous,  sometimes they lead to other realms or dimensions and sometimes... They reveal what you are at your deepest. 

Cats can navigate the strange pathways through mirrors. 


Scar xx

Encyclopedia of Slip-ways, Doorways and Half-Creatures...

Entry One:

Slag Heaps

And

Goblins. 

Slag Heaps are found in forests,  and particularly about Ghost Gums. They are recognizable for their vast size, a hill fashioned from the compost of the forest, pale stones and twisted branches. Mud too is deep within its structure. 

Slag Heaps are just one of the few Doorways into the Goblin Realm. 

To access the Realm from the Slag Heaps,  find one at half light -  morning or afternoon is fine -  and bring a blade just in case. Also it is useful to bring a pocket filled with five cents.   Usually though,  you will not need to use it. For most,  it is enough to stand upon the muddiest,  softest part of the Heap and this could be anywhere. So search carefully and once you find it, stand there and clear your mind. 

Eventually,  you will begin to sink. 

Once you sink below you will be in the Hallways of the Goblin. 

Goblins have rough skin and are alarming physically. They move easily through the in-between places of our world, through computers,  wall spaces,  attics,  basements,  the corners of your eyes and corners.  In ancient cultures they were responsible for.the theft of babies and leaving a changeling in their place. 

They love five cents,  socks and other nicknacks,  responsible for the lost things of our world and malfunctioning traffic lights and computers. 

Scar xx

A Small List of All Hallows Safeguards.

A small list of All Hallow's Eve Safeguards... 

- NEVER look directly into mirrors in a dark room,  it can steal fractures of your soul and wake the beings that dwell behind it. 

- Lady bugs are good luck. 

- Killing ladybugs is bad luck and will cause the building you are in to catch on fire at some point. 

- Gecko's are good luck and ward off the creep crawls Minor Grade. 

- Moths represent death and its really bad luck if you kill them.  Most likely it will bring death or disease such as neumonia or mild colds. 

- Never keep your back to a doorway,  a mirror or a room. Things move in the shadows where we do not look and can crawl inside. 

- Cats are un-luck. As are crows. Able to navigate the hidden doorways and slip-ways of our world.   Occasionally they bring good fortune and at other times they herald oncoming horrors. If you are often followed by such creatures it means that you are of-kin,  a familiar with associations to Loki and with similar attributes. Crows and cats also increase access to the in-between places. 

- Don't step on cracks in footpaths. They are slip-ways and can bring bad luck. 

- Beware getting shit on by a crow,  it brings terrible bad luck for a day. 

- Snakes are good luck. (pythons,  cobras and green tree snakes). 

- Green tree frogs are good luck and ward against demons. 

- The presence of any other frog inside your home means a demon is within your walls.  DO NOT kill it but remove it as quickly as possible. 

- Be careful of what you say. Fate listens and enjoys playing the trixter and on occasion,  the executioner. 

- Breaking a mirror earns you seven hundred years of bad luck. 

- Always leave five cents at your front door or around the house.  It appeases and feeds the gremlins. 

- Always keep noise in the background,  silence breeds other things. 

- Be so scary that the monsters welcome you with open arms rather than teeth and claws. 

- Psalm 91 is an ancient ward against demons. 

See you on the other side of this nightmare season. 

Scar xx 

Just a Small Post-script to Lunacy: trigger warnin.

Where do demons go to rest? 

This night... 

This silence has no end. 

I see them now... 

The after-impressions the monstrosities leave in the air, 

Like the afterburn of a photo... 

Shredded clothes, 

Jagged teeth... 

Just behind me, 

Always moving... 

Fast as lightning. 

Some of the creatures i see clearly, 

Others through the cornees of my eyes... 

Others... 

Move in impressions. 

I seek my way further into the heart of darkness, 

I must see the true monsters... 

To see the abyss in its entirety. 

You think you know the darkness? 

The crawling,  shifting,  pulsing... 

Jittery-scritchy movements

And chattering and noises and white noise, 

In all the grey areas... 

The static,  the silence,  the noise behind the shower? 

That is there day or night, 

Always the creeping of distorted faces and creatures everywhere... 

Hiding knives everywhere in the fated hope that something, 

So useless... 

Will save us from beings that can be harmed by no blade. 

Inciting verses and symbols, 

Talismens and safeguards do not work... 

They are inside

And they are

Everywhere

And hungry

And murderous 

And here

Now

Now

Now here. 

The smallest of things can twist and warp, 

The smallest gears of the mind. 

A simple name... 

De Vermis mysteriis. 

And we bring the darkness through. 

Do you ever find yourself smiling upside down into a mirror? 

Don't... 

It traps your soul

And now all we say is this

Hahahahaha

Dont worry.. 

They are

Just getting me used to when these demons will ushur me sweetly into Hell. 

Doomed you see... 

Where do demons go when they're host is taken from them? 

To the Daughter... 

Do you need a rainstorm?

A thunderstorm has attached itself to me... 

Sleep Paralysis: Entry 01

There was a storm in my bedroom last night... 

In the darkest hour, 

Felt the chains bind tight... 

The pressure of a thousand fathoms crushing, 

Us down... 

The way the shadows warp, 

Even with the lights we keep on... 

How long we stay awake, 

The chattering in the darkness... 

Scuttling in the corners, 

Scuttles underneath... 

The white static noise, 

Deafening in our ears... 

The wind, 

Freezing that raged everywhere... 

The ravens that shrieked, 

Movement... Insects  on my hands... 

It doesn't matter if we stay awake, 

The monsters walk in the dark hours... 

Eyes sewed open, 

Eyes sewed close... 

Where do demons go when they are, 

Cast out of their host... 

They latch on, 

The legions... 

The feral hounds with their eyes, 

That burn apart... 

Us. 

More and more, 

You see the cycles of darkness we bring. 

Maelstrom in a bedroom... 

And we are laughing alone, 

In an empty house... 

We are never awake. 

Un-wake...

A tune unfinished... 

Drifts through these hours, 

Of hauntings and leviathans... 

I walked into the Between last night, 

To the place beyond the Long Pale... 

Somewhere near and far from the distance of day, 

The embrace of deepest night... 

Far past what has been left to us, 

This heart that is as foreign to us as a different planet. 

I travel through rooms that are all the same... 

The Arctic has seeped into the still places way below, 

These fingers grey and fractured... 

The cold has teeth, 

And this embrace has knives... 

As we pace in turn to the steps death stalks us, 

An endless dance... 

When Fate, 

Did you choose your fancy to bind these chains... 

The Marrionette you still manipulate, 

When it is broken... 

Still sweet silence, 

This deal struck... 

Of rules to a game we barely knew we were playing, 

These ghost s... 

These endless faces that haunt us in these half hours, 

Oh so sweet the addiction of darkness... 

We reap what we write, 

Not what we sew... 

And now you are to join their number, 

To become what was... 

A dream fading already, 

And lost. 

These hours slowly creep. 

Herre Fate, 

I do not want to dance anymore... 

I don't suppose a truce would be to your taste? 

Though knowing you... 

Youd enjoy luring me in with such a chance. 

You staked your claim over me years passed, 

And till death shall we part... 

This monstrous game, 

Shall go on. 

Here is a riddle... 
Here is an impossibility. 

A long time ago she wandered far away... 
She found her way to a forgotten sea shore, 
Felt the call of the darkness... 
The labyrinth that binds her mind. 

Long ago she decided to leave... 
To walk into the ocean, 
To let the eddies and waters erase and carry away. 

My bunny lies over the ocean... 
My bunny lies over the sea, 
Please won't the waves... 
Bring my bunny back to me. 

Endless miles she was swept away... 
Until something heard, 
Something saw... 
And came for her. 
It dragged her down... 
Amidst the lights that rose up, 
And now she slumbers deep below... 

Open your eyes, 
Be you... 
I see a reflection of you in every image, 
Movement... 
Distraction, 
Book. 

She sleeps... 
She always sleeps, 
And i cannot wake her... 
I cannot wake you anymore.