allekto

how many times have I tried to give you this simple kiss? I've got it painted on my face... how many times have you tried to give me your perfect gift? you wear it in your open eyes... maybe we've just got to give it up. baby we were just too fucked up. maybe we just don't love enough... how many ways have we said that there's no future in this? it weighs a burden on my heart a burden on my soul... there's too many times that I've tried. far too many things I've had to hide. so, now... I'm gonna spread my wings and fly. I'm gonna taste the sky.

Dreams-        of fire and air, and somewhere the earth        suffocating potential inhabitors, those who        so easily adopt the qualities of the elements Elementals-        lost, running scared in a holy wood of false        idols, pin cushions and a few patterns on        a page cannot hurt a soul- the heart must        be there or nothing is accomplished Angels-        who should hear and understand, trapped        in a demon box, unable to get there, unable        to reach, a feeling so wonderous,        so frightful Pain-        ripped true from the hands        pierced through the eyes, they        ca

bringer of day, harbinger of light confusion wrought in the sweetest of ways spinning through the universe careening through a lifetime of emotion slipping and falling through loss after loss... but nothing really changes in the end the way a feeling flickers through the bloodstream courses across the nervous system in heart pounding anxiety... entangled so deep in a place you cannot see or touch trapped in a labyrinth you thought you knew banners hung upon the walls discouraging victory, delighting in defeat... burning daylight down to the wire fine lines spreading across the planes of time small cracks waiting for enough pr

What it is to be human.  What it means to be a homo sapien in the year 2003.  Typing that certainly makes me wish I knew what the year was on both the Hindu and Jewish calendars.  Alas, I do not know.  There is this theory of the Helix/Matrix.  Yes, it can be called the Matrix as well- if you're feeling particularly like using pop culture references.  It is only when using the visual reference of the double helix strand that it gets a different name.  This has been discussed with differing applications of skill.  However, let it be noted that the construct of the theory has remained intact. People are born, they grow, they change, they mate,

Black Queen Could I capture him? Like a pawn? But no. He is not so small.  Not so restricted. A rook then?  A bishop? No. He moves differently. Not a knight in shining armor, he moves his own way. But I, I am the Black Queen. Attacking and persisting I capture and steal away his defenses. Until he catches me. Then I will be a pawn again- persisting to regain my Queenly status. Using my own defenses, I will put him in check. As he looks, and so looks away or past me. Lying in a place fathomless lengths away. I will reach him. Though sanity seems such a struggle in this game I will touch him. The necessity of this s

 Veritas Hell was always a domain of chaos.  It existed predominantly as a counterpoint to the redundantly architectured Heaven.  Still, after billions of years a system had developed making Hell a place of organized chaos- just as Heaven had begun to transform into a chaotic organization.  But that is neither here nor there.  The important fact was that the Overlords of Hell were not pleased. By and large, the Overlords of Hell have never been the happiest of celestial creatures.  For an Overlord to be pleased, for it to derive pleasure, was the only true measure of success by demonic standards.  However, when the Overlords began howling a

---fallen--- I can't be like her, Just like the one that you want, All smiles and light;   I'll never be joy,   Nor beauty, strength, light, and love,   Never be like her;     She laughs like spun gold,    While I cry charcoal and ash,     Lost in a gray world; But I like this place, Everyone knows me out here, A familiar face;                 Someone they can trust,                  They turn to for some comfort,                   I give them their love;                         My friends are like hope,                         Out here in the universe,                         They show me the truth;          

The shadow crept past the deadbolt on the front door.  Locks could not keep darkness out.  Especially not simple affairs of metal crafted by simple men.  Drifting on the air the shadow moved swiftly up the stairs.  The prey was up there, sleeping soundly no doubt.  Though it had no cares about being silent, or anything else for that matter, it moved with stealth and surety.  Past pictures of family and friends that it had no care for, past closed doors to closets and spare rooms, and into the open master bedroom suite. Pausing for the space of a human heartbeat, the shadow watched as its target slept on, unaware of the twist of fate that was

Perhaps I am too bitter. My body may be on backlash. But, what am I to do? I can't help but:        get angry,        get jealous,   become a vengeful Femme Fatale! Can't help it. I'm too busy to be dreaming like this, Yet here I am-      asking myself what magic you possess,          and daring to be enchanted. To be slanted. By viewing the world on full tilt, maybe I can bribe Fate, instead of allowing it to blackmail me. So many sighs. And way too many tears. My heart is made of steel.    I am the newly recycled bionic woman.    I will not feel.    I will not cave in. I will act a certain way,       and not