Emotions


Blue white jagged light
zips across the sky
rage unfulfilled
thunder a rumbling counterpoint
to the pouring rain.
With heavy staccato taps
the rain beats upon my roof,
rounding out the symphony of 
anger.


Anger.  Stronger than most emotions,
fueled by greed, envy, fear, and 
love.
Love - how may love spawn anger?
"From my greatest love has sprung 
my greatest hate."
Is not hate a form of anger?


Love.  Fickle mistress of the heart,
capricious goddesss that can
be both cruel and kind.
Yet we continue to search for her,
to throw ourselves down upon her
altar, offering our souls as sacrifices
for whatever pitiful boon she may
bestow upon us.
Ahh, Love.


Fear.  Why do we fear what we 
cannot control? How often do we 
fear the unknown?  We delve into
metaphysics
searching for answers
when there are none to find.
I commit my fears to God,
and I fear no more.


Greed and Envy fall together,
holding hands while skipping down
the lane.
Those who have more than they need
crave more - power, wealth, influence,
love, while those with none tremble
with want and wishes unfulfilled
for a tenth of what they have.  
Is either truly productive?
Do either really serve a 
purpose?
Or may they be tools of the devil
for use on the simple minds and hearts?


I neither have great wealth
nor want for it.
I am provided for, and content
with what I have been given.
Do I dream?
Yes.  All men dream of what
could be, what they desire most.
Do I dream of riches?
No.  
Do I dream of fame?
Yes, but I know I would never
be truly happy.
Then what do I dream of?
Family.  Security. Trust.  And,
Love.
And the greatest of these is
Love.




Dreamwalker


Floating in an endless dream
I fear to wake
to lose my happiness
where love is true
and honest men
walk the land once more.


Yet, I wake
to face the day
lined with myriad 
pitfalls
struggling onward
buoyed up by the love
of my family and friends.


Then night draws close
her darken veil 'round
the world.
I retreat gracefully
thankfully,
to slumber.


Gently as a falling feather
I spiral down
further
into the dream.
Back to my familiar world
where I haunt
in the simple abode 
of my mind.


Ahh, fantasy.
It looms largely in 
front of me, 
ripe with possibilities
as the dawn 
of a summer's day.


Here, I am the master.
I control my hurts and 
disappointments
change them to happiness
and triumphs.
I control the world
of my dreams.




Wanderlust
Dappling silver waves
slap gently against the shore
where I sit above
looking down
the moon-drenched beach
stretching away for miles
yet I am alone.


Walking, after midnight,
my feet softly splashing
my solitary footprints
lead the way
from my past to my future
wandering, aimless
much as my ramblings are.


From time to time my footprints 
merge
with another's; but never for long.
Always disappearing
into the waves
or out beyond the sand.


Alone, once more, I wander.
Time has no meaning for me,
the silvery moon, at last,
gives way
to burning sun, the bright of 
day
searing my soul
but never managing to touch
the core of ice beneath
wrapped around my heart.


Sworn to never love again
locking my heart away
where love's cruel rays can't
touch
nor burn in the light of day.
I stop, looking back up the 
path
that I have walked, to see
just where I have come from
lest I forget the origins
of my soul.


Turning my back on the past
once more, I walk
and wander aimlessly
seeking to find my purpose
the meaning of my life,
if there is one.


Trudging ever onward, 
I chase the sun away
to blessed night,
diamond-hard stars twinkling
above, the bright moon
above,
gilding the landscape in
silver.


I sit again, above the waves,
and watch them glide
restlessly to the shore
in their own vain attempt
to conquer
what cannot be conquered.
Much like my life, these 
waves;


So much effort, for so 
little return.
Yet I know I will win
in the long run.
I will prevail 
in whatever I choose
when I choose my path
for true.


Till then, I wander. . . 
till the day I meet my 
destiny.





The Call


Slowly the beating starts
a gentle pounding
rhythmic, insistent
sending the blood
pounding
a low throbbing
breath quickening
and moisture forms
on the brow.


Flickering firelight
illumines fitfully
the flames dancing
in response to the drums
answering the call
of the sound
the pulse of the world.


Gradually the pulse
begins to speed
feet slapping the dusty earth
rising and falling
bodies turning and twisting
arms swaying
answering the call of the 
drum.


Faster now, pulses race,
the beating of the heart
echoes the beating of the 
drum, the blood in 
veins singing in counterpoint
chanting rises
arms swirling
hair flying
passion overtakes all.


The flames rise higher
fed by the rhythms
the drums sound
crecendoing in a thunderous
cacophony
harder, faster, louder
more - 


Then silence.  
Echoes soon fade
hearts resume their peaceful beat
as sweat dries on fevered brows
yet the pulse remembers. . .
It remembers how to sing.









Conflict, or the Battle of Light and Dark


Dazzling, the light refracts
in a bright flash, turning this way
and that,
sharp edge silver bright
I hold Death in my hands.


Power flows, as I gently move
from side to side
the black leather grip held fast in
my hands
mesmerized by the play of light and dark, so
like my soul.


A thing of beauty, yet deathlike 
efficiency
long history that has seen much
I hold in my hands
the thoughts and memories of all it
has slain,
transmuted by the acrid blood
that coats the blade still.


Haunted by phantom faces and images
that aren't mine
silently accusing.
All those I left behind;
pride, envy, love
all curse me as I turn my back 
upon them.


Yet they cling still.
Anger rages, I turn, and raise the
blade, slicing, tearing at their
shades
their mocking laughter adding
to my fury
as my demons defeat me once 
more.


Sweating, as my breath races
my heart, I stand, alone once 
more.
The demons have gone.
Once again they have proven their 
mastery over me,
they retreat
to await the next folly
unfettering of my mind
to plauge me, torture
my lost mind.


Raising the blade once more
pressing its cool surface to my
flushed brow,
I close my eyes, and sigh
knowing this only to be a 
temporary respite
in the battle
for the ownership
of my self.
The battle of truth 
and righteousness against
dark thoughts and darker 
intentions
in my inner being;
The conflict of light and dark
in my soul, in my heart, in my
life.

by Allegra



Nightfall

Chasing the sun away
as I fly high above
skimming above the 
floating clouds
the land below
conceal'd
beneath.

Rays of pinkish-orange
stain the horizon
greedy fingers reaching out
holding onto the last vestiges
of day
as the vermillion ball
sinks beyond sight 
beyond the wall.  

Racing ever onward.
Racing to beat the devil
as the light dies
with violence and
splendor
before at last giving way to
night.  

One by one, the 
twinkling stars appear
diamond hard chips of
ice gleaming
upon the blue velvet
that slowly fades to 
black;
jewels tossed careless
by a giant's hand.

Beneath, peeping through
the lace of clouds
like wayward children
tiny lights twinkle
impishly
taking a childish delight
in their game of 
hide-and-seek.

Slowly, the patterns
of the stars 
unfold
pinwheeling images
circling the earth
before the dawn of man
reveling in their splendor,
I bask
in the sweetness of 
the night.

Ahh, night.  Only the 
earthbound can truly
appreciate its bounties;
the sounds, the smells,
the enchanting loveliness
of the night.

Confined as I am
so high above
I sigh, regretfully
closed away from 
my night.  
That special time when
the veil is drawn across
the world,
when the whole of man
and beast sleep
to lead another day,
another life.

As I watch from
my captive window,
I watch the moon rise
Pale and Cold,
she bathes the world
with her cool regard,
gilding all she touches
with silver.

The mountaintops
breathtaking in the 
sun
become magic with 
the moon.
Powdery white becomes
as blinding as light
gleaming with the secret life
bestowed by the moon's 
touch.

Too soon, it seems
the pale luminence
begins to wax and wane
as the sky begins 
to lighten in the east
making ready for the 
rule of the sun, 
once more.

As darkness flees before
the advancing rays
I feel a sneaking
sadness,
at the dawn of another day
at the expense of the 
death
of night.

Yet, I am comforted
that once more
at the close of day
night, blessed night
will once again
reign
and triumph over the 
harsh day.
Night, the soft fragrant
night;
the soothing balm to my
troubled soul.








Destiny


Stepping forth, into the moonlit glade
dark shadows abound
but I am unafraid
hand in hand, with a stranger


My soul-mate
my long hair trails in the breeze
honey-colored, curl'd tresses
dancing in the breeze.


I watch the Master turn his back,
draw forth his hood,
turning back to face
sad, wise eyes
bright blue, gaze with compassion.


I can only smile, brave beyond the fear
nod encouragingly
I know the reason we are here
the thing that must come to pass.


I tighten my hand, in the stranger's grip
and feel it tighten, in return
as I watch the Master take up the bow
nock the arow, draw back the string
as tears stream from his eyes.


I smile again, and close my eyes.
I hear the rush of air as the arrow
is loosed, its flight true
slams into my breast, through the heart, as time stops.


Filled with power and pain
my soul flies upon the winds
as I learn the secrets of the past
and see the mysteries of the future.


Then, at last, my body calls
my time is not yet done
plunged back into bloody death
yet I live again


Feel the pain again,
as my eyes once more
open to
the dark shadows of the forest.


My soulmate and I, 
bound by ribbons
and together by fate,
know what we must do


With too-wise eyes,
we see that
the bonding must begin
as we draw near one another.


His eyes are kind,
but filled with pain
the agony of understanding
as he pulls me near.


Our souls meet, and remember one another
and ancient love
stronger than time, or death
rejoicing in having found one another again.


All secrets dispensed,
knowlege shared,
we share our pain
and grow strong.


I pul him close, the bonding half-complete,
to finish what was started.
I stroke the hair back from his brow,
then kiss it with a sigh


As our bodies reaquaint themselves
from pasts long disremembered.
The bonding finished, strangers no more,
we know what the future holds.


We know what we must fight for, 
what we sacrafice for.
We live to serve Mother Earth,
we die to defend her.


We will continue the fight, 
on down the line,
living, loving, battling, dying,
as we have for a hundred-hundred years.


By Allegra





Vampyre


Darkness begins its slow descent
upon my very soul,
with beckoning eyes,
a sweet sting,
an insane immortality

Feel the pulsing life
a beating, pounding drum,
the rush of fear,
then gone, as
ecstasy overwhelms all

Pale body trembles,
in the still night
a first awakened hunger,
of the ancient one's way
the night only witness to mine evil deeds

A gasp, a cry, 
the final surrender
the warm throbbing of life
meets the cold of death
and begins the dance again

Excitement builds
I collapse with a sigh
a gentle hand guiding down
eyes staring at the sky
the life force ebbs as it flows

At last fulfilled
a gentle close of unseeing eyes
savor the sweet lifeblood
a shudder, a sigh
as false dawn arches over all

Again to the darkness
now I must steal,
sated the beast within
now to sleep,
the holy light a bane to mine own

Another night ended,
dawn lightens the sky
the darkness closes upon me
as silently I await
the coming of nightfall

Then again I shall arise,
to feed again once more
driving hunger, unquenchable thirst,
never mortal again,
I dream, with sadness, of before.

By Allegra





Wishful Dreams


Of all the days, I knew the sun,
when last I could see
the dying rays
before giving over to the darkness
of the night.

I saw the last sunrise,
burning away my tears
and noticed, the light
is born the same way it dies;
with violence and beauty.

As if waiting to die,
and to be born again
as fitting my last sunrise
my last full day
in the light of the world

before joining the eternal darkness.
Yet, whilst sunlight has its incomparable beauties,
the darkness, like velvet, is kind
as soft as satin, as it hides from prying eyes,
the harsh realities I must face.

Now, as I live in darkness,
and see the sun no more,
I wonder what might have been,
if I had a hand in destiny's choice
if all would have changed, or stayed the same.

Now, the light is death, and dark is life
as the red blossoms for me each night
filling my soul with joy
singing a hymn of power through my veins
like the sweetest wine.

I dream, sometimes, of mortal joys,
of feeling the sunlight on my face,
holding someone in a tight embrace,
other than the embrace of death
then shrug, for it is all behind me now.

Yet now and then, 
I feel a sneaking sadness
and wish my visions were real
as things might have been, been given the choice
I dream with sadness, of before.

 By Allegra





World of Dreams


Words float by, meaningless
as intangible, soap bubbles
as dark as dreams
I dream during the day

Floating, I contemplate
the thought of cool water
lapping at my ankles
as I walk the shores of yesterday

The dream of dreams I dream
the sigh, the tear, the scream
I walk them all, untouched
where I end, who can say?

I see the prayers of saints
I feel their emphereal tears
crying to the Lord God above,
"save us, save us this day!"

Whether he answers I cannot say
that is not for me to know
on I walk, from dream to dream
I walk the lonely ways

Comissioned by one greater than I
to take the task I face
I am the keeper of dreams
my kingdom shuns the day

My world, it is my home
invade only if you dare
for those who wish to harm
will rue the day

Yet walk my kingdon
freely, brave
a visitor, my guest
if you shun the day

Yet know that it may not be as all seems
for dreams are fickle things
I am but the keeper of worlds
the worlds where fantasies lay.

 By Lisa





The Dream

Random thoughts,
scattered across meaningless
pages; written daydreams
are these the true reflections
of our souls?

Or merely phantom fixtures
from forgotten pasts
that come across the veil
storytellers
from which we have
lessons to learn?

Does time hold meaning for us
of such short, busy lives:
Do we truly appreciate
all that we have in our 
race to acquire more?

I still hold dear
the valour of love
the chivalry long-dead
a relic of past ideals
long forgotten champions
I stand, a rock in the river called Time.

Steadfastly resisting change
I rage, rage, against the dying of the light
the light of all I've believed
as the unbelievers destroy
my dreams one by one
seared in the harsh flouresent day.

As dreams are the children of night
concieved, born, grown
whilst we sleep,
only to die of old age
in the bright light of day or 
the shrill cry of the clock.

Many mortals forsake their dreams
to live in endless drudgery
day in, day out, routines unchanging
as the light of day burns brightly
and forces forgetfulness of hope.

Ahh, but then, night comes
once more, unfettering minds
springing free,
to explore unknown vistas
where the walking fear to tread.

Love once again, conquers all
men are noble
women are pure
or wicked, if you please
all rules are broken in the 
place of the dream.

Man's greatest downfalls
and his saving graces have
been seen in the dream;
as long as Men dream, these 
things will come to pass.

Children, unborn or dead,
live on forever in this timeless place
as do all the loved ones lost;
but have care,
for our deepest fears also dwell
and thrive.

No one may wake and know
the exact reason for their dream;
it is for the wise to see
and take heed
of the lessons offered.  

Only a fool dismisses the 
power of the dream;
only the foolish refuses to see
what has been laid before him
as simple as the most deceptive
riddles, one must look within.

Only the wise can truly see
yet even they cannot grasp the 
fully significance, as their ways
mire them, and blind them
till they see no more than the fool.

Any person, who opens their heart
can see behind the riddle of the 
dream;
Yet they must be wise enough to 
see the importance, but be of free mind.

Able to accept the unacceptable
see the unseen, or at least
believe there is more than meets
the eye;
Yet, still enough of the fool
not to see shadows behind every rock.

The balance, then, of foolish and wise
is, in itself,
what we must learn
in order to understand our minds
to use them to full potential.

The dream is only a tool
to help us understand;
for if we cannot know our own dreams,
how can we ever hope 
to know our own minds?

By Allegra





Redemption

Lying in the soft grass
dappled sunlight
playing across my face
trailing my fingers
in the waters 
of a babbling brook

Looking into the sky
watching the patterns
of the clouds
takes me back
so long ago
a lifetime

Looking back, with the
eyes of the wise
I see time
as it flows around me
as I stay above it
remembering, living.

The vital oath I gave
to earn immortality
in a fashion;
my soul never dies,
never rests;
though the body dies

I live.
To protect
I am sworn
to fight, as entrusted
with holy power
yet remain anonymous.

I walk amongs the mortals,
with only too-wise eyes
giving notice
to my true nature,
my purpose on this earth
secret to myself as well as others.

Each time I must complete
the task at hand;
but first recover the knowledge
I have disremembered
from pasts long ago
to aid me in the present.

For only at the time of renewal
is all revealed;
before the cycle begins anew
the birth, the life, the death
the memories overflow
as I remember the lifetimes

Stretching back through history.
Each life, a chance to serve,
correct the wrongs
perfect my soul,
until the evil is banished
from the light, forever.

Only then, my mission's 
completion,
can my soul rest,
join the others
heaven-blest.
At long last, Redemption.

By Allegra





Prayer




Who am I?
What have I become?
Hateful, hurtful
embittered
by a soap opera of 
tragedies
that only make sense to my
soul?
Who have I become
to judge so harshly
to condemn with the fury 
of the righteous
when I've had no just cause?


My aching heart has swayed my
deluded mind
irrational judgements I've 
made, tortured decisions I've 
declared, and enemies
conjured from thin air.
Who is they poor wretch
who stares back from 
the looking glass - 
a deranged and 
tormented Alice
begging for release from
the hellish Wonderland
from which she is 
imprisoned?


I am ashamed of who I 
have become.
The vision I see is not 
me; rather, it is who I 
have let myself become - 
caused by resentment,
jealousy, andger and yes, even
hate, and fear.
All the lower emotions
of humanity have become
entrenched in my soul, 
leaving scars in 
their wake.


Father in Heaven, I beseech 
thee, take this cup from me, 
for it is bitter and I 
do not want it.  Take my 
scarred and wounded heart in 
Your hands and give me
rest. 


It is surely not what I
deserve, but I beg forgiveness
for my sins.
My concience is the cross I bear
as I wander in the dark.
Father, shine your light upon my 
face, that I may find my
way home.
Turn not your face from me, 
but show me they glory,
remake me in your image, 
and lift me above the petty,
hurtful world.


Help me heal my broken soul.




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