Post by bella on Dec 13, 2006 15:40:32 GMT -5
Her eyes begin to close as the tears roll to the floor.
She knows death has pranced into the room for the reason of the kiss.
She hears the moon calling as the ocean whispers her name.
She lays there,
Her body slowly begin to grow cold.
She is torn if she should go with them or not into the deep night sky.
She decides to stop fighting them for she knows they will not leave without her tonight.
Hearing the calling of her over and over again,
She my now rest her head with ease,
As she dances into the calling of the moon,
And the ocean's soft whispers
© By Caitlin E. Long
Her bodice stood its place, frozen by shock and fright, though her mind shifted quickly, bouncing around at every possible corner of her mind that had been left empty. In a matter of mere minutes her whole world was shattered with the twisted whim of a stallion who had a furious soul. A dam, slave to the darks and their kind, had once inhabited the heap of flesh that was dishonored in its position of the ground. Her foal, the heir to her and many generations of slaver was the one standing, mind distort. Every thing about the stud, from his tremendous height to his dark lord status gave him the dominant, upper hand. Of course though, after what she had done, there was no way he could let the slave, or her weanling babe live. Never was there to have another sire's foal on his lands, let alone his own right-hand beta stud.
A smirk crossed his kisser and a deep chuckled bellowed in his throat, erupting in a loud roar, all at once. His legs moved in their usual graceful manner, not making the effort to step over the corpse, trampled it. With every step he took his mighty weight came down, and the bones could be heard crushing, though it didn't matter; the mare could no longer feel it. As he finished his final steps across the only thing blocking the path to the mare, and was about to give the foal a death worse than her mother's, one of extreme torture. As she sealed all the light from her eyes, closed all the sound from her ears, and blocked all other senses, a stallion came from seemingly nowhere, lounging at the one who dared threaten his daughter. As the filly opened her eyes to the chaos, she slid off to the side escaping, and so ending her last confrontation of these two stallions. Not just a greeting, it was her last ever glimpse of them.
Now she ran, never looking back to see if anyone had followed, and never thinking of what lied ahead. She had no mind, no emotion, nothing. Everything was now blocked, along with all the pain that would flood back if she had tried to show anything. The pain of watching the mother she held so dear to her, die a slow death at the hand of what? Someone who thought far too highly of himself. She had to stop it from coming back, ever…
I hide behind a mask
You can't see my face
Looking at first glance
I'm in a happy place
The truth is, that's a lie
But you can't really tell
that in the back of my mind
I think the world should rot in hell
What's the point of living
If we are all going to die
What's the point of being happy
If in the end we're going to cry
But this is something no one sees
This is something no one knows
And yet deep inside of me
This feeling of hatred grows
So even though this mask reveals a happy side of me,
I use the mask as a shield to look at what others can never see.
© By Jamila Rashid
The mare now ran, free as the eagle who so often accompanied her in her run of, what appeared to all to be, joy. But really, this was a run to escape. It was her way out, out of this life, and out of the world; her run of true freedom. Whenever she had a bad feeling, though what it was she couldn't tell, she ran as far as her meek body would take her, pushing her flimsy legs to the point they buckled under her in pure exhaustion. But her run came to the end as the feeling at which plagued her since she was young dissipated into a dull pain within her. Of course though, she couldn't remember her childhood, anything before her yearling year was all a blank sheet, a past erased. But maybe it was better that way, with the pain she had without knowing, what would it be like if she knew the truth? The true reason for her self-torture…
