Quote of the Day

We bury love; Forgetfulness grows over it like grass: That is a thing to weep for, not the dead.

::Alexander Smith

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the myth in a dream

as a Satyr I'm cast forth into the darkness the wind echoing in the distance carries your voice I run through the forest following your essence; shadows wander all around and I'm lost to my senses I fight my way through a crowd of wood spirits as you fade in and out in a distance of clouds my instincts of Satyr, both human and beast, compel me to hunt you, make you my prey there's a force that carries me through the night I gallop through the dream to catch you the stars shining fly like leaves caught in the wind your gaze is mine; and it's your voice that wakes me.
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lost in words

I’m sad because of your sadness Dwelling in faraway lands; Sadness growing in your heart, Your eyes lost in distant waters. Pondering, your wandering heart Its lights never casting a shadow; Waves and waves of burning fires Release your essence to the winds. I feel sadness, yet I’m not sad; Absent the sense of your presence That accompanies my loneliness Far into unknown places. I lost myself in my words— The ones casting my road; I’m too lost in the dreams That weave a labyrinth before me.
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