Wind-City

Seems a high blunt taste Seems a beautiful waste Such an elegant shade Why is it to fade? Ribs so grey made? Cities blind in chase Pictures greased to phrase   Just as the cloudy air planes that soar above Once playful raindrops, now gloomy love Off painted scapes they shove Colors in history glowed childishly Every tint of earth poured meaningfully Eyes to see beyond what is to be seen Textures and radiance never better then what could have been Pinnacle in the canvas of the wind so lean Glass works sculpted of broken diamonds too keen Else Heaven bend to re-imagine

The ocean's crying, Dripping droplets of cunning salt. The impatient wind wails endlessly, Yet the water's depressed thrashings don't halt. The land stays solemnly still and stands Courageously tall without shedding a tear of agony. Even the shy breeze whispers, To the gentle giant trees of the soil's bravery. The overwhelming ocean leaves sad tiny marks Of shells from its aggressive harsh beatings. The lands bleed boastful Sand as the beach's greetings. The wild petunias and daffodils pose As the audience to the frames, Hence, the fauna sing and cheer To these nature games.

A little bit sad, Not tired of being mad, Far from happily insane, Too depressed to feel the pain. No body cares if you are good, Nor does it matter if you lose your childhood, Pleasure is all they need, Even if your heart if filled with greed. "Just keep going" they say, They don't mind even if its not your way, Walk an unknown path even if you have to crawl, What ever happens; they say don't fall. Live a life which you don't want, The world will race you to the finishing point, But your dreams are long lost, And all you did is listen to them at your own cost. But our lives only end up in our hands, We shall only play our own bands, Just t

Ruthless winds and raging seas A link so poles apart from ease So darkly distinctive As glitter from dirt To sorrowfully know, addictive.... Hacked pleasures do hurt This bond between man and monster So firm, so unbreakable...shakes a mad red heart Yet so forbidden, cries pushed away as an imposter Our tie we hold till our knuckles bleed pulled apart Destructive beliefs and demolishing dreams How long will my people hold my love chained to their ugly screams But I'll never rise because I've fallen forever So intense, so deeply... In a hopeless feeling of adore and pain we share together Summon giants and bulldozers to fail to pick me up

The Van Devereux Files—Pt. 13  The setting sun slowly bathed the rolling green hills and wooded slopes of the Erskine Valley in orange and purple.  Splashes of gold crept down the cobblestone streets, bronzing the ornate, half-timbered buildings.  Shafts of dust- flecked light angled down the multicolored skylights lighting up the dragon's bulk as he sat looking down on an elaborate game board.  Gorynych was down eight hit points and most of his Switzer crossbowmen were dead.  He had ten English knights, seven Welsh knifemen and seventeen Welsh bowmen.  But the dragon never gave up; he still ha

The Attic Window—Pt. 12 When Kes and Sigrid came back from bidding Gorynych adieu, they were greeted with a shocking surprise.  All the leftover food was gone, and every bit of dishware except for the tray was upset and broken.  Worse, the whole, entire tablecloth was one big, scat-covered canvas.  Tiny poopy footprints were scattered haphazardly from one end to the other. "Oh, no…" Kes moaned. "No, no, nooo!"  She then collapsed to her knees in frustration and held her head. Sigrid raised himself on his hind legs several times, and thoughtfully contemplated the mess.  Then his ea

The Cave of Memories and the Late Afternoon Debate—Pt. 11 The rumpet-drawn cab thumped and jingled its way into the outskirts of Zelmak.  The hefty dino-bird warbled and yarped vigorously as the vehicle swerved in and out between the loaded donkey and pony carts, the crowds of market folk and customers, and the Greeblik and lummox coaches dropping off and picking up streams of passengers. A carved Yggdrasil talisman swung on one corner of the cab, while on another hung a winged Arkan Sonney or "Lucky Pig." Arthur rode in back, huddled amid his luggage.  Face wan, he stared glassily at the noisy, packed streets.

                        The Arcane Book Finders—Pt. 10   Tullugaq trailed the scent until it abruptly ended at a curb on Corbett Street.  Now what?  Stepping onto the street, she sniffed around a bit.  The odor of large padded feet convinced her that either a bus beast or taxi had stopped here a few minutes before. Exhausted and whining pathetically, she slumped down next to some nearby hedges.  She was feeling thoroughly depressed as well as baffled.  As she

 The Simple Facts of the Matter—Pt. 9 While Kes busied herself in the clutter explosion that was once the kitchen, Gorynych settled herself comfortably at the living room table.  There were chairs, but Gorynych doubted they could support his massive bulk, so he squatted on his haunches with his tail coiled around him.  He started looking around at the many interesting things adorning the room.  Beautifully made clothing of sewn pelts and embroidery hung from the walls as well as the rafters, along with all kinds of ornamented objects.  He also noticed numerous shelves full of old books on plants a

  The Unexpected Surprise (and Shock)—Pt. 8      As Kes and Gorynych walked toward the house, the front door opened.  The dragon stood motionless, staring at the strange creature that emerged from the doorway—walking apelike on its hind legs.  Its front paws clasping a bean cake.  It looked somewhat like a fox, but it was much more larger and bulkier.  Its paws, however, weren't like that of any regular canine, being more like those of a monkey or raccoon.      "A kitsune!" Gorynych exclaimed.      "Fire dog," Kes co