

sweet golden eyes it's been ten long years, and i still don't believe it. i still think i dreamed it 'til i wake up alone.sweet golden eyes
i still long to hold you, to chase away your fears. but i know now you aren't mine,
i'll remember 'til tomorrow.
but i know it'll still hurt, cold sheets in the morning where you sho


Lady of ShadowsThe flame pulses slowly, growing brighter in response to my attention. Outside, wind lashes the naked trees but it cannot reach me here. Nothing reaches me here. The wax runs slowly down from the candle’s rim, escaping the flame only to grow hard and cold as it joins the crusted blood of candles that came before it. Even light from outside never reaches me here. There is only the candles with their hesitant glow. In the darkness, its tiny golden life turns the rough, dead stone into a thing of beauty. The light flickers like some tiny glowing bird when I move, flutteLady of Shadows


pheonix in loverise up from the ashes let passion give you wings of fire death doesn't have to end it we can just begin againpheonix in love
from the ashes of an old life a new one into flame already springing
Pheonix rises from the pyre of her own incineration and I begin to wonder why can't we?


shadowsThe shadows flowed around him as he walked, billowing in an unfelt wind. Almost as if he wore a cloak of living darkness that reached out hungrily, drawing the very fabric of night down about him. A fabric that seemed to linger, long after he'd passed on down the darkened road into a twilight of his own creationshadows


Uncle DannyIn the Beginning, there was the Word.Uncle Danny
And some say that the reason there was only one word was because Uncle Danny got hold of the rest and God just had to make do.
And Uncle Danny had black nails and no hair, and he wore big glasses and a hat and a coat, and he walked around Copenhagen at night and wrote it all down on the cobbles, and in his head, and in his hat and, sometimes, on paper.
And Uncle Danny was everybody's Uncle, even if nobody could really remember why or how. And Uncle Danny had the Words. And the Words had Uncle Danny. And sometimes it would be hard to see where the Words ended an


The Sea is Calling ...The dreams will not stop.The Sea is Calling ...
I hear her calling me. Watery, deep, and dark, she bides her time and calls. She knows that I can hear her. She knows that it makes my heart ache to feel the tendrils of her foamy fingers reach into my soul and ever so gently pull. But she does it anyway. Because she is a mother, and she is made of love. And love hurts.
In the dreams I walk to her lapping edge, sand and rocks harsh under my bare feet, and I feel her tickle my skin, cool and soft. She touches with a lover's tenderness, her strength well hidden in those tentative first moments of contact. With nothing to stop me her voice lure
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