The dream of the eve

When I saw her dance

I saw Eve

Dancing in a trance.

I don't want to admit,

though it hurts me so.

She is but a bandit,

My heartless chest was a gusto.

I don't want to confess,

Eve got me swayed.

but her sight is a bless,

For me there is no aid.

I want her kiss,

brimstone be damned,

I want that bliss,

pleasure unbeknown,

May I go out with a hiss,

steppingstone overthrown,

But Eve I love,

dove hereinabove.

I woke up alone.

The forest is luscious but bleak. Its' rich green colour has faded. The sun is shining an unholy black turning the sky dark. The grass sways to ashes and back, with a faint blue hue. The trees are contorted, corrupted by the same hue, as if anybody and everybody were buried alive in the trees.

I walk alone.

The hue watches me, and the unease is ceaseless to the point of pain. I need to know what happened to everyone, why am I here, where does this end. The forest is endless and beautifully dark. In the distance I see an abomination. Its' horns protruding from the abysmal skull, wings sprouting from its' disturbing back. I'm afraid, I feel my heart in beating in the cage, ready to spring away into death.

And it slowly turns to me.

The nightfall came, painting the sky red. It struts to me, slowly but surely. I cannot move, can barely breathe.

It looks at me, and embraces me.

It lays me down, closes my eyes shut.

I didn't get to see the next day, I woke up.

It was dark and cold.

The pain blossoms from my wrists, burgundy red blood dripping from my hands. I know that I should've bandaged the wrists by now, but I can't find the will to get up, wake up.

The door opens and in comes a stranger. His dark hair reaches his shoulders, his robes dark with a bit of red, looks silky.

Too far gone, I fall asleep...

I wake up to a face of the stranger. His pale face is complemented by dark hair and red eyes. His luscious lips tinted red from my blood. My arms are bandaged, clean, and unsightly, to me atleast.

His deep voice echoes through the room, but I fail to understand him, he whispers in another language. A cold chill rushes through me, making me shiver. He sees this, and gently pulls the blanket over me, encasing me in the soft fluff.

His eyes fade to a soft black colour, his gaze seeking answers.

A hand comes near me, gently combing my hair.

With that, I fall asleep once more.

I wake up, and this world is not my own.

Its startling and baffling, cold too. On his throne he sits, looking up to the pale moon. He snaps from his daze and turns to me. His gaze softens and he holds his hand out to me, and I take it.

-My lovers' got greys. Silver falls down like a river, or perhaps a waterfall. No colour remains in those silver strands, just clean white with a touch of silver grey.

-My lover takes pride in those silver streaks, those white hairs, those grey locks. The smile that overtakes the face is priceless. It fills my heart is joy.

-My lover's grinning at my greys. Thin silver hairs pop up from my colouful hair. I gigle, for those whites' match my lovers' hair.

-As the days pass, more and more greys appear, mostly due to age. I am not as young as I once was. Nothing can be done about that.

-My lover adores my hair, nuzzles into it. I can feel shoulds relax, hear breaths calming down. I see a glee little smile, a chuckle rising from the deep.

-Time goes as always, my hair goes whiter with it. My lover gigles out:" We are almost alike!" I gigle too, because I love that smile, that gigle.

-Nowadays, my hair is as grey as my lovers. Matching, dare I say. Silver falling down like a river. Age comes to us both, and that's all right, for my lover is just by my side...

He was a hunter. And I was a person in a bad neighbourhood. Monsters crawl out of the dark, and they hunt dusk till dawn.

Legend had it that this hunter is a son of the devil, beautiful and deadly. That wasn't the only problem: I am not a human either. I know that I am becoming a problem. My arch enemy is, well, me.

The Voice of Freedom described me so:

"A gangly monster not unlike a hairless werewolf, if said werewolf were a few weeks decayed. " That ugly apparently.

I feel his gaze and I can't resist the shiver.

He came to me at nightfall. Grazing my neck with his lips, he whispered promises that could make a courtesan blush. As he said, so it was. Grunting, groaning, gasping, moaning, he fulfilled every promise that came from his mouth. He didn't rest till morning. I heard from old women at the square that this is only temporary, that he'll be gone at the first crack of dawn, but he wasn't.

He stayed till noon, uttering something strange, that the curse was lifted.

From then on, I haven't changed once, could it be because I fell for him?

I knew my answer when he came back to me at nightfall.

End-verse is my name,

playing with death is my game.

My endgame

Overcame

The shame

Of the sullied flame.

My future misbecame

The postgame.

My nickname

Is no longer my forename.

Outshame

The corrupted dame.

I blame

The flame

That shames the game

And shares my name.

Go ahead hang me

With a barbed wire noose

As you cry happily

Covering the curse .

Tis truly funny

How heaven and hell

Are the same,

For it is rainy

Yet sunny all the same.

Home I seek

Of salt I reek,

With the noose around my neck

All around me is a wreck.

Deceived you'd be to believe

That our mother is Eve

Of you I relieve

The memories sane.

The earth is bare

For old world I pine

Where can I plant my seed

To drink the holy wine?

So, here I stand

Tall and proud

While the devastation lies

All around.

I write with my keys

And dream with ink.

I sleep wide awake

And love with hate.

My memory is ephemeral,

And my sin is eternal.

My soul is fading

And my body is standing.

I am a soldier

And a civil

And a conquistador.

I am a human.

I dream with coal

And I sleep in water.

I see the gold

And I roam.

I read from the sand

And from left to right

I walk in the air

And remember overmorrow.