She stood calmly waiting for the 4 men to come tame her. Her eager blade hummed: it had its own lesson to impart. #1LineWed
Blood or oath bound most. She hugged her blade, cold steel, the colour of her eyes in the Storm. Only death connected her to life. #2bitTues
Cold light of day, leaden motes,
Blinded eye, fractal sheen that
Sheathed his sight, and drew a blind
Across dreams sinking, scuttled,
Leaden weighted by the day.
Well connected: long the chain of corpses, her blade the sudden and final cure to the sickness they’d sought to spread #2bittues
He slept, adrift, temporal dream dissonance,
His dream: a woman sheathed within her magic,
Dreams that formed and folded, crested, crashed and broke
Within the swell that sought safe harbour,
Trees rooted in the swell, summer gripped by winter sea,
Sun warm upon his face, hoar frost rimed within his beard,
He shivered in his bed, linen drenched by sweat,
As body, shuddered, confused, accommodation sought with
Dream infused, chaos wrought vision of his dream.
Dark wings beating, ancient augur echoed,
Shapes shadow scribed upon the walls,
Mingled with shadow etchings cast
By dwindling candle and dying embers of the fire.
© Greg Richards