When it rains
My memories flood back
That time on the quayside
When i danced and danced
With never a care
My hair and feet wet
So wet
Yet i just danced and danced in the moonlight
Satin slippers slithering on the shiny wet cobbles
Large raindrops splattering
Shining
Over and over again i danced
Looped in a time
That only the blood will free…
‘The Keeper of Scrolls’ July 2020
If you have not already guessed, what i am remembering is here….
She fell into his arms.
It had been far too long
Yet lockdown had made her pay a price
But would he be able to tell?
Would he still love her?
Should she tell him?
She had, had to do it to survive.
There was no choice.
No other way.
It had happened spontaneously,
Of the moment.
The midnight exercise walk was entirely to blame.
How would she taste?
How would he taste?
She hardly dare think of the consequences.
It went against all the ethics of their clan.
Went against all the blood-oaths she had taken
And the vows of bonding.
“Thou must not mix the bloods”
She sighed.
She knew what had happened to those that faltered,
Strayed from the path.
“Allegiance to the Clan is uppermost”
But these were challenging times
And she was caught away during lockdown.
It was feed or die.
“Do not deny the sacred bonding”
He seemed uneasy
As if he knew.
Should she run
While she had the chance
Or stay and face her kin?
“Blood mixing with other tribes is strictly forbidden”
How well she knew her oaths.
She had learnt them well
But they did not account for being caught outside of the boundaries
In times of pandemic.
Surely her elders would be lenient.
They must understand
Surely.
He hugged her uneasily.
He was reticent,
He felt strange.
There was a distance in him not felt before,
A yet to be shared secret.
There was a chasm opening up
Right there and then
And from a distance
She heard his words
Coming from the depths of an abyss.
A voice vibrating.
A soul in pain.
His words caught in the night air
Just hanging emptily
Awaiting her response.
She could hear his desperate pleas
Caught in times net
Pleading for forgiveness,
Being caught outside
When lockdown occurred.
Of how he had fed on another
And how his life depended on it.
Begging for her forgiveness.
She was stunned.
How many more of the clan had been locked out
Had fended for themselves?
But she knew forgiveness,
How could she not
Given her own circumstances.
Suddenly and without thought
She found herself sharing her words with him
Hoping for that ‘kindred spirit in a storm moment’
Only it never came.
Just a long awkward icy silence.
They looked into each other’s eyes,
Devouring a moment in time.
Sharing a darkness between them
That had broken all the rules.
Maybe words weren’t needed.
Maybe the blood-bond was strong enough
To never need words,
Forever keeping the dark secret between them;
Honouring unspoken vows.
A betrayal to clan in the outside world.
With a chasm between them
They walked back into the sanctuary,
Their clans home.
Bonded by blood they certainly were
Yet now bonded by betrayal.
The other’s existence secured only
By a tiny fraying thread
That hug in the chilly night-air
Like the unsaid questions.
Questions that would return
To haunt…
Heed then, she had read,
the ‘hidden’ words of
‘The Black Book of Night’
“Mix not your blood with alien clans”
“Leave no trace upon the land if alien bonding manifests”
“If strangers be for feeding, feed well and long”
“When desires are met leave one red droplet not”
“Beware and heed well. From this time on existence will never be your own”
“Heed these words and heed them well,
for the ‘Black Clan of Night’ will take you as their own…”
No secrets are ever our own.
No betrayal ever goes unseen.
The wind whispers through the trees of time
All dark deeds return to source
for the Watchers see and hear it all….
‘The Keeper of Scrolls’
Napowrimo 2020
moon.willow@ntlworld.com
Listen, listen my innocent child
Water is wet and the wind is wild
Fire will burn, in water you’ll drown
Dont play with the witches at the edge of town
For they cast ne’re a circle and no shadown they throw
They tinker with time, their wheels they revolve
They wear ne’re a cloak, look like you and i
No silver jewellry, newts or frogs eyes
They care not for spells, for time they do waste
Never think twice when gathering tokens
Taking and offering what’s yours or mine
So listen, listen my innocent child
Dark can devour and death divide
The black flame will raise and truth will hide
Stay away from the witches, away from the flame
Away from the truth, in the holy ones name
They like tiny children, in the first flush of youth
They will take you and mould you into more of the same
They will offer the rose in the sacrements name
Whether you take tis up to you
Whether you wish to pursue their game
Time is illusion as the witches well know
For they are you, they are me
Dont ya know, dont ya know….
‘The Keeper of Scrolls’ January 2020
Upon the crossroads sparkling bright with pale moonlight, time stands still
And the past is just a memory fading from view.
The witches of old tis said, merry met here with the very devil himself,
Before he journeyed out in his chariot over the moonbright fields.
The hounds of hell with red eyes shinning crossed over to the Otherworld here
And the longest day just goes on and on and on and the very sun itself is caught in a bright web of liminal space.
It is here sweet love I wait for thee, underneath our Ladies perfumed summer tree.
It is here at midnight I wait for the moonlight’s shard to pierce my soul.
It is here I wait to cast my spell in words of ancient tongue.
Here where only the convergence of the tides of time can enchant you to fall under my spell, to come forth into my realm.
I hold my dagger to my heart, my hands steady, words flowing in this, your ancient tongue I know so well.
My sweet life force I offer as a token to thee.
Will you accept?
Sweet force of power that you are, will you come?
Will you meet me upon this midsummer night?
In the distance two dancing hares, entwine like moonlight sprites in the ripening fields.
The energies of the night are entering this realm, slipping through the veil of reality,
I see them, but will you also come?
My blood slowly drips upon the ground as I chant my words.
I light a single candle and offer my precious ruby gift to the flame, gently anointing my forehead.
I become the very gift you need but still, will you come?
Will you require more?
What will you take on this midsummer night?
Oh sweet moon of mine, shineth down yet not upon my soul, lest you see me laid bare,
Revealed in moonlight upon the shores of time for whom and what I truly am;
Not mortal.
I crave my kin.
Come through the veil sweet love; sweet immortal darkling.
Cast your dark shadow upon my heart;
Leave me not abandoned and alone.
Still my blood drips upon the earth as the crossroads merge into my very being.
As the land becomes the sky
And time stands still
And the still is all.
The past and future entwine together.
I am a part of it as are you
And finally my eyes are clear.
My love I yearn to kiss thine lips upon the delicate rim of midnight.
I die a thousand deaths yet live a thousand lifetimes waiting.
Yet you come not.
I encradle the sweet dark flame of eternity that is forever you,
To return next year
Or never….
“In misty grave yards by ancient tombs, i weave my spell, the Dark Lord looms.”
She waited…. hidden from view; hardly daring to breathe; totally alone and cold. She stood motionless and silent within the ancient yew grove, adjacent to the bleak, deserted waste land just outside the old village churchyard. She stood there frozen and still, caught in a dark and encompassing shroud of silence; waiting. Each muscle in her shivering, aching body strained and tense; her trusting heart that beat so safe and warm inside her chest knew nothing of its impending, ultimate doom. Neither too, did the living life blood that surged within her burning veins have any sense of the dark secret chill of its owner’s yearning, for a taste of life beyond the grave.
The hour was nigh, there was still just time to turn back; to back down from all her precision executed plans. Could she, would she, sacrifice her own sweet lifeblood on the altar of a desperate desire, to willingly let go of life forever, for a love so dark, so deep, that sang so seductively and constantly to her from a shadowy place within her own soul? Could she let go of all she knew from the realm of the living and sacrifice it all forever, for the love of one immortal man?
Weeks before she’d found the spell in a tacky little joke shop, tucked behind the plastic fangs and dusty bottles of fake blood. It must have fallen out of something else, she had thought at the time. It certainly did not seem like it belonged in the joke shop at all. All that was now left was a little tatty and grubby, dog eared pamphlet. “To Conjure up your own Vampire!” it excitingly announced on the front cover. She had laughed but bought the booklet anyway. Maybe good for a Halloween joke she’d thought at the time.
And yet, three times or more she’d read the little spell contained within the pages of the archaic looking pamphlet, digesting all the arcane words; was it supposed to be a joke or not she’d thought. But before she knew it, she’d become encaptured and entrapped by those ancient rhythmic words and felt herself becoming hopelessly compelled by them, caught up in something she could not control or understand and to be honest she had no desire at all to even think about controlling those thoughts and feelings that she was discovering she liked very much. Something within or was it without, seemed to be calling to her, opening doors in her own perceptions, tangling with her mind and leading her dangerously into the hypnotic pages of another century, another existence. She read those mesmerizing words over and over again. Words and chants with inner meanings, that came not from those grubby little pages, but from somewhere afar through time and space, from an exciting, yet dark, cold place where no human life dwells. She was caught, trapped in a dangerous web of darkness and silence and now here in this moment of time, she waited in the gloom of the ancient yew grove.
“No circle cast, no consecrated ground, no protection for the soul”. She had read.
She had rehearsed it well, remembering all those words. Her incense, silently wafting around her, had been carefully prepared of unfamiliar ingredients, hard to find in this day and age, and of course, her own very sacred menstrual blood. She watched as the swirling, spiralling smoke engulfed her in a magical cloud of unfamiliar scents laden with an unfamiliar purpose. She waited, chilled to the core, just staring at the patterns in the smoke, until she thought she saw the forms and swirls change or had she just been staring too long, far too intently? She strained, wanting so much to shut her eyes tight but willing her eyelids to stay open. She felt cut off from reality; the real world suddenly seemed oh so far away. A closure not of her making was happening; a boundary between her world and another realm was being laid down, or was it in fact being opened? As the shift in reality continued, furtive shadows started closing in, veiling the ‘real’ world, changing the energies, shifting the patterns in time and space and seducing her senses. Suddenly the air stilled, became colder, heavier, the patterns of energy changed and then it started and then right there in that unholy place, it began.…
Into that circle of forever-darkness she was being drawn. She sensed a feeling, so ancient and remorseless; a feeling that suddenly seemed far too close, far too claustrophobic and now far too real. Visions came to her, shadows tugged at her soul causing long-lost memories of old, deserted half lit forests to weave their way in and out of her mind; forests in which ancient creatures she had never seen on earth lived their lives unbeknown to mankind; always hidden from view. Yet upon those remorseless mists of darkness now came words that whispered into her ears, words of sweet seduction and sensual pleasures yet unknown to human kind.
She shivered; a sudden breeze? It must be…. she looked up, startled. It was a still night and the dampness hung heavy and very cold in the now unmoving air. She was transfixed, she knew she’d followed the spell exactly and now it was done; there was no turning back. There never was any turning back for she’d called him, summoned him and was totally terrified at what her ears were now beginning to hear and at what her eyes were now starting to reveal to her.
She was literally frozen to the spot, as if her legs had transformed into deeply buried tree roots and become a part of the grove itself. She was transfixed, hardly daring to breathe, yet she felt a deep longing within her soul that wanted so much of all that was about to become. Then with heavy eyes still straining to look through the now slowly parting mists, she heard a sound, a voice. She could hardly dare to look, for out of the shadows, from out of the gloom she knew he now stood before her, still clouded yet in mists, but his mesmerizing gaze sought her out and met her eyes; simultaneously she felt an icy dagger plunge deep and irretrievably into her lost soul.
And then that voice, chilled, dangerous and deliberate and yet somehow with a long-lost longing of its own;
“I come to you through the mists of time and from out of the shadows of my own tortured pain and longing. Through the endless, lost centuries in a frozen moment of time I heard the call of another’s beating heart. It was a rhythm I recognized, a rhythm I once knew so well. A memory within me stirred. I felt a deep love calling. I heard it and I came…”
The air all around her seemed even colder and more frozen than ever before or was it just the fact that her own dear soul knew that it was about to take flight for ever.
He continued….
“Through centuries of endless-night I have waited, have waited for the calling. Do you really think it by chance that we meet tonight?”
She shivered uncontrollably…
She watched him through the mists fascinated, drinking in all she saw. He had an aura about him that could have stemmed from a noble birth; he had a highly educated and intelligent persona. Or was this in actual-fact merely a glamour; another part of his web of deception? For a fleeting second though, she thought she glimpsed the person he once was, the person he had once been. She suddenly felt a deep sadness and an unexpected compassion for him, as he continued….
“To taste the love of an immortal is to drink from the well of eternal darkness. Are you ready? Are you ready for a life of eternal darkness, a life of endless shadow and torment, an existence of neither blessing nor curse? Do you have the courage to savour that feeling of cold numbness which dissolves and explodes into a desire born of pure blood lust that no mortal has the right ever to know?
Do you commit, do you submit to me? Do you…do you?”
The question hung there in the air for what seemed like an eternity.
Still frozen and transfixed with fear she could hardly dare look, for now out of the shadows, out of the gloom he started walking slowly and deliberately towards her, his intoxicating gaze, his air of confidence and allure was so compelling and frightening, so seductive and dangerous. His charismatic beauty together with his sophisticated air, that came she thought, from a noble birth line. The whole way he held himself as he made his way toward her, caused her to utterly and completely forget his one true purpose of why he now walked upon this earth; why he was now walking towards her…
He softly, oh so softly whispered in hushed and sensual tones….
“I have been a mortal man and I have tasted the love and desires of a mortal man. For when I walked upon this earthly plane I knew love, passion and compassion. You understand, for you are like me, you know the fear, know the longing and you feel the desire. For centuries of endless-night I have waited, for this time, this place, for you. Did you think it accidental when you stumbled on that spell? You are my love, my chosen one, tentively treading the foothills of your own desires and passions and now your journey proper will finally begin. Are you ready to take that final journey? But remember this and remember well my love. To taste the love of a vampire is to drink from the cup of eternity. I ask again, do you commit, submit to me?”
His words hung long, lonely and frozen in time in that dark yew grove, just as the cold air had, as the mists had only moments before. She slowly drank in all she had seen and heard and from within her, from an isolated island within her own soul she heard a voice that she knew to be hers…
“I am ready to tread upon the dark path of no return. I am ready to commit myself to the cup of eternity. I am ready to commit to the bonding of your desire. Just one look into your eyes has sealed my fate and I realize and acknowledge that on this night there can be no turning back. I realize that without these dreams and desires there is no hope and yet I know that without my death I can have no rebirth and will forever walk alone and lonely in the world of men. So yes, I say yes with full conviction and love and knowledge of who I am and who I will become.”
She waited as time stood still and eternity ran backwards, in order to catch her in its grasp.
When he finally came into full view and reached out and pulled her towards him, he uttered no words, simply and finally kissing her, but a kiss unlike any other she has ever experienced before. It was a kiss so full of tenderness and totally unexpected love that she was completely thrown off guard and yet it contained an electricity of sexuality that burned up and ignited every cell in her body. His body though was cold, so very, very cold and yet from somewhere deep inside of him there emerged a human warmth that she hadn’t reckoned on. Was it some lingering memory from his time as a human man, some deeply embedded genetic makeup pattern that he had never quiet totally thrown off? She was being seduced, felt drugged by his very touch and totally under his spell now. It was oh so easy to lie beside him and not to feel the cold, clamminess of the damp earth beneath them both. So easy to let him drink in all her dreams and desires with his lovemaking. Yet she knew, was fully aware that he was taking all her dreams and desires and twisting and weaving them into something borne of sheer darkness. She willingly allowed this to happen, craved his seduction and yearned to be by his side forever. The pleasure of their lovemaking bought her to the edge of feelings she had never experienced before. It was intense and totally consuming; it was dark lust and totally fulfilling.
…and yet as she was reeling in a zenith of pleasure, his body was starting to hear the sound of a different drum, was starting to dance to the rhythm of a different beat. A blood lust was rising in his body, he needed to feed, he needed blood and he needed it fast. He began to feel an uncontrollable urge take hold of him. His sexual desire for this woman, his lover was so overwhelming but so too was his own desire; a desire forged over the centuries by the most chilling existence ever imaginable. It was a desire that could only be satiated in one fashion, the ultimate horror, the ultimate release, by the kiss of death. The kiss of the blood rose. It was who he was, his birth right….
Her trust in him was so total. She may have thought she was prepared but nothing, nothing on this earth could have prepared her for the nightmare that was about to become her. In the ecstasy of the moment she had totally forgot, why they were really there. She had given in to him so completely and now could wait no more as the final crescendo of pleasure began to rack her body like a tidal wave.
His wet lips continued to suckle at her defenceless, naked body. A body that looked so white and smooth and innocent upon the dark, dank earth, yet his own ravaged excuse for a body heard the sound of a different beat; an older beat born of death, war, decay and rotting corpses; of a time gone before that can never be spoken of, a time of lust and blood, famine and pestilence in a world that was forever dark. He felt her body, so white, so smooth and so sensual beside him. So warm, so alive, ah yes.…so very alive; a reservoir of life for his own rebirth.
As she lay totally absorbed in the pleasure she was receiving, he slowly and deliberately began to move up her body. His tongue licking, his lips caressing and his teeth.…his teeth.…gently biting into her warm, soft, silky flesh. When his tongue and teeth finally found her neck, he felt an uncontrollable wave of blood lust take over him and as she reached the point of blessed release he relentlessly sank his exposed fangs deep into her lily-white, innocent throat.
She let out a terrified scream of absolute unbearable agony. She suddenly felt cold, her body heavy, numb, lifeless. Her death was stalking her from the shadows, impatiently waiting for the invite in. Blood began to slowly seep from her opened throat as he greedily guzzled from this deep well of vitality, the ultimate gift of everlasting life that she was now bestowing upon him. As his fangs sank deeper and yet deeper still, he gorged in an almost animalistic way, savouring every mouthful, every morsel, every drop of that warm blood that was oozing from her still living body. His sexual desire and ultimate satisfaction was manifest in a bodily release that was way past the boundaries of mere mortal understandings.
“Oh, this ecstasy; this dreaded, cursed ecstasy!” he wailed,
Yet he was totally unable to stop, unable to halt himself from his deathly embrace. When finally, he had had his fill and had drained his beloved of all her precious life force, he paused and was strangely compelled to gaze at her cold lifeless body sprawled on the ground at his feet. Her innocence and beauty were evident even to his dark soulless eyes; maybe even more so now.
“What have I done?” he screamed “This cursed, eternal night has triumphed again!”
He stood up and glanced around him, searching frantically for he knew not what. Then he stumbled towards where her body still lie on the hard ground and scooped up the limp, lifeless form in his arms, for she was yet still bound in human death and her fate to return as a vampire was ever in his hands.
“I take you with me into my realm of forever darkness where our bonding on this night, like our love will live on and on.” He cried.
He slowly and desperately staggered towards the mists tenderly carrying her in his arms and back into the darkness. And in that very instance of stillness they were gone…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
….and the only sound to be heard echoing in the crisp, early morning mists of that yew grove, was the metallic clatter of a single, silver bangle; a silver bangle that had fallen from her wrist as he had hastily scooped her up in his arms. And on that cool morning breeze, amongst the damp leaves and twigs, a small scrap of paper fluttered out from inside that silver bangle….
….and written in her own, clear handwriting was the reverse spell.…the reverse spell that could only be cast as she reached the other side; the reverse spell that now lie damp and shredded like the rotting autumn leaves.
The Keeper of Scrolls 2006
updated 2013/14 & 14/02/2019)
simply a love poem….
In the damp darkness of decay, you will find me.
In the corners of the world where no one dares to tread, you will meet me.
In the alleyways of death outside of society I wait.
I bathe in the glow of death and destruction.
I dance in the blood of beating hearts, feeding from their passion and desire.
My human skin is shed, all feelings ever known now gone.
My humanity devoured by demons of a seemingly bygone age.
My soul sacrificed for eternity to gods who once fleetingly trod this earth.
With death, my love, came great freedom, great release and a great desire.
Do I tempt you my love, my dark desire?
Will you bite the ripe cherry I hold in my hand?
Dare you taste the bittersweet juices that trickle down the sides of my mouth?
Surely you are tempted to join me in this dark and delicious world?
If indeed the choice is yours to make.
I will invite you in,
But only when you shed your soul and offer it up for my inspection.
Then and only then shall I decide whether your measly human soul is worthy of my inspection.
Can you take the ways of the dark realms?
Can you forsake your humanity?
Can you live in a world where human life is carrion?
Where an innocent, beating heart is the tenderest and most sought after of trophies?
The alleyways between the worlds are full of discarnate souls who never quite made it to the other side.
Can you bear to hear their pitiful screams, caught between the worlds, no way out?
Can you ignore this nightly carnage as the demons of the earth devour your own?
I watch you nightly through the veil, my sweet and wonder.
Shall I reach out and temp you with sweetness and seduction?
Shall I plant soft kisses upon your pale neck?
Let you taste my hot breath upon your lips?
Offer you a safe haven of warm thighs?
Then reach deep and uncompromisingly into your soul so trusting, to claim my prize?
I play with you, my love.
Meet me half way, my dearest; come to me of your own accord.
Let your own darkness flow.
Don’t let me wrench your soul, as I know I will.
But offer me willingly tonight; the sweetest of things.
I dissolve into the shadows, patient, excited.
I smell you approaching and my dark soul quickens.
I carefully fold my quivering black wings tighter around my body…
‘The Keeper of Scrolls’ 2008
Inspired by an ancient waymarker in a silent churchyard way up on Exmoor; a land that has so many tales to tell, if only it could…..
A solitary waymarker stands tall, marking the boundary of the graveyard; a tick upon the land. No blood, no sign of any struggle, not now. A girl long ago cruelly hunted down and burned, leaving no trace; just ashes, dust scattered to the winds on that wild and desolate moor, where these days only the wind howls to the moon.
Not for the likes of her sweet and loving soul, the serenity of a consecrated graveyard. Not for the likes of her the dignity of remembrance. Not for the likes of her an epitaph carved lovingly in stone; only the winds and rain to wash away all traces.
All she did was to fall in love, to surrender her heart and soul to the one who loved her back. All she did was fall in love wildly with a passion of her being way beyond her years. All she did was fall in love with a dark and wild immortal with the wind in his hair and the moon in his eyes. All she did was to allow him to love her back.
All she did was to kiss him on that wet and stormy night in that dark, desolate graveyard way up there upon the moors. It was all she did, one kiss, one passionate and rain-soaked kiss. It was all she did, she fell in love with the immortal with the wind in his hair.
Some nights when wandering up there on the wild moors, one can almost catch the movement of shadows out of the corner of one’s eyes. One can almost hear the rustling of wet leaves and the sound of damp footsteps running frantically through the graveyard.
One can almost imagine in the darkness, the waymarker with the sturdy gorse bush still growing at its foot after all these years, on an otherwise dry patch of lifeless earth where nothing else will ever grow. And if one was to imagine sinking down upon one’s hands and knees under the waymarker, one can almost see the rivulets of blood running forth onto wet saturated garments in the rain; up there on the moors.
And some nights when the moon is round and the air is dry it is not hard to imaging a lonely cloaked figure under the waymarker scraping away at the parched black earth where nothing lives. One could almost imagine a figure with the wind in his hair, uncovering an old and crumbling piece of wood tossed away in haste by those who feared a vengeful god and who had time and guilt on their hands; a simple weapon that had long ago pierced his lover’s trusting heart.
One could almost imagine
Almost
Whilst up there on the moors….
Adueni ‘Keeper of Scrolls’
May 2016
Also from February’s Allographic Workshop
Seasonal Hauki with the chosen word of ‘Zodiac’
The dark winter skies
Clothe the Earth in icy cold
Zodiac sleeping
Then springtime flies in
Sweet scents and verdant new growth
Zodiac waking
Summer heat, too hot
Desert dry upon the skin
Zodiac listless
At last Autumn comes
All is calm within the skies
Zodiac rebirths
February 2017
“The Keeper of Scrolls”
Hidden within humanity
Are the boundaries of delusion
Held strong by misplaced power
Fed by fruitless fear and lies
In a visionless future world
Hides the deadly chains
The lock and key lost in time
Yet time itself already crushed
Within its own delusion of lies
A fruitless circle of becoming
As the Serpent is fed
‘The Keeper of Scrolls’ at the Allographic Workshop 2017
Slumbering Knights from days of old
Mythical Beasts; stories untold
Fact and fiction are bound as one
Truth is hidden by the earthly sun
Dare to see what’s before your eyes
Look to the heavens and beyond the skies
Rhyme and reason is no more
Illusion is bound on these earthly shores
Hear the story; read the rhymes
Take a leap right out of time
The truth is where it’s always been
Yet hidden deep within your dream
With the slumbering Knight
On the shores of time
With the mythical beast
No more seen…
January 2017
‘The Keeper of Scrolls’
MIDKNIGHTS TELLINGS: 