The moon in his eyes……

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….

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Adueni ‘Keeper of Scrolls’

May 2016

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How to master the Vampiric Arts

Knight and damsel

The first thing one needs to establish is to proceed with caution; If one does not have a ‘calling’ for this darkest of all Arts, then one is best to leave well alone.

Do not be fooled by the likes of Twilight or The Vampire Diaries etc, for there is nothing sexy about this ancient Art. For it is a basic need and want and cannot easily be controlled by those unlearned of our ways.

Do not seek a quick thrill in the vampire worlds but seek life, seek renewal, seek to live and seek to evolve, above all seek a teacher, seek a guide, even a sire,

Yet fear not, tread with wariness and caution and everything you desire will come before you when the time is right. Don’t be surprised if we, the old ones seek you out first, for we know your very thoughts and your innermost feelings; we have known you since the hour of your birth and we may find you before you find us.

If we invite you in, then graciously accept all that we offer you,  for not everyone is offered a door, not everyone is bidden a welcome, a way into our forbidden worlds. Once accepted in, you are well on your way to learn the ways of the blood.

Forget about the glamour, the mythology or everything you have ever known about our ways for we have been upon this earthly plain for aeons of time yet have always remained hidden within the worlds of men.

Once within our domain you will be invited to partake of the chalice of immortality; drink deep and well my friends, savour the red ruby wine of immortality, yet do not forget that the chalice; the vessel you lovingly grasp, may be of human form.

Learn not to give in to squeamish thoughts, although one usually finds that at the moment of the rising blood lust this is never a problem. Once proficient in the basics you will be ready to begin your adventure within the world of humans.

Do not fear for them or be sorry for them; for them it will always be a great honour to be chosen as a life enhancer; hence they enter the night time of our desires willingly and with acceptance. Quest to find your own life enhancer, bond with them and embrace their beautiful gift as often as you need to;

The more you are able to feed; to nourish yourself, the stronger you will become. Never take the gift of pure energy for granted, drink wisely and learn to cherish and savour every drop of the sacred life force. Over time you will begin to transcend your human form; you will be of yourself but so much more so; more advanced and enhanced.

All abilities will become honed to perfection as you embrace our ways; your eyes will surely shine with an inner fire and your skin will glow with an ageless radiance.

But think well my friends before you come knocking on our doors; our ways are not for the faint hearted, or for those kin of humanity. We have our own ways, our own kin, our own rules, our own houses.

The clans do not take easily to the falsity of outsiders but once the doors are open and you are proven to be one of the true kin then rest assured my friends, you will never ever want again.

Here endeth the first lesson on becoming Vampire…

 

Vampire Rose

Winter 2016

Keeper of Scrolls

Whispers of Scarlet Kisses

 Vampiric Haiku

 “Let not the light of day betray the real love that rules the world” 

 

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When years matter not

And seasons slip by unseen

Then my love I live

 

 

 

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To find another

Of bloodline true and race pure

Tis an old one’s dream

 

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On these shores I dream

Of days gone by and feasts past

And living embraced

 

 

 

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The purest of gifts

Is offered, so drink my love

Two souls bound as one

 

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On the plane of life

I exist in mortal form

Yearning still for Light

 

 

 

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In dying embers

Whispers of scarlet kisses

Bleed upon the land

 

 

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When shadows of time

Creep through the fields of your mind

You will know my kiss

 

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Weaving webs of night

My dream becomes your nightmare

Night and day as one

 

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Freedom i will give

Truths i shall gladly teach thee

Nothing though comes free…

 

 

September 2016

“The keeper of Scrolls”

Not Remembering…

My heart screams

Takes flight

I turn around somehow not quite missing the beat.

I run and run through the forest of my forgotten dreams

Only I have forgotten.

Forgotten you

And how you tasted

How you looked

And how you felt.

The trees here are tall and dark and barren

Yet they live like my heart

Fed on remorse and regret.

How many life times ago was it that I loved you?

How many hearts have beaten and ceased since those days?

How many mortals have lived and died in this realm with out actually living?

I am still running

Just ahead of times tick, tick, ticking.

Running always

For fear of standing still and remembering.

Constantly running in and out of ink-black shadows

Never stopping.

Running in forests where the screeches of startled ravens dissipate upon the winds.

Skin torn

Skin shed

Pain desired

Remembering.

Remembering I loved you

And the taste of ruby kisses so sweet and seductive.

Drip-fed by time’s unceasing march

I dissolve into the pools of my own sadness.

Keep running

Keep hiding

Seek shadows.

Slide into the oblivion of the unknowing

Where ravens cries are the only sounds that leave my lips

And the black blood of night

Is the only truth.

What is known can be unknown

Memories can be reversed

Just like time.

Go back

Back

Way beyond knowing

Way beyond unknowing

To a time of just being

To a time when the earth stood still

And all there was, was the Word

The truth

The all

The Love

The Blood

And You

 

 

 2016

Always of the blood…

The Kiss….

Cursed by a kiss
From centuries gone.
Touched by the hand of love alone.
Holding the rose
So red and so soft,
Clutching at life so wantonly lost.
So fragile the rose
In the hands of the doomed.

So swift the kiss
Smearing the lips.
Fleeting the words
From the bloodstained tongue.

Adrenalin rush
Humanity shattered
I gave
You took
That’s all that matters.

 

Fall back

August 2011

“Whats love got to do with it?”