| Subject: {ק×} ...M'loves... {ק×} |
Author:
Lost at Sea
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Date Posted: 10:29:13 05/10/01 Thu
Author Host/IP: px1nr.wp.shawcable.net/24.66.94.140
*The sunlight dims as his endless balladic dance streams through the shadowed plain, the moons light defying all else as its face appears in classic image, the sun slowly, imperatively slipping beneath the horizon, sliding out of sight, drowned, stolen, gone, gone... The utter truth of the darkness petrifies the lonely meadow in which he stands, not the shrill cry of a raven, the sudden strain of a toad, nor the peacefull chirping of a cricket coming to meet his desperately searching lobe, its base twisting upon a worried pole, his heart's beat echoing painfully throughout the whole of his body, rattling the skull which lays solemnly beneath a thin stretch of flesh, torn in some places, mottled flesh, unsightly flesh, flesh of two tones mingled together to form one tapestry to hold what was within him within him.. His dark gaze crosses the horizon's lip, the rim of the earth as known, the end of all things until one might cross it and meet yet another challenge to meet the point which would arise again, anew... Yet by him, nothing was anew.. Nothing at all sparked his interest.. Nothing at all caused a smile to tease his dry, cracked lips.. Nothing at all.. Not anymore, for now, he had surely lost his loves.... His absence had been nothing less than obvious, as he had seen it, his days of fighting for even a meeting with these beauties that his mind recollects never worth the effort that he had taken.. For he had not seen them, not at all, and now, surely, they had forgotten, forgotten the steed of sable ivory, the steed douced in the uncleanliest of earth, then purified by a wash of snow... These things they might have forgotten.. These things they might have wished to forget, the way that he had loved them, the times that he had been afraid to ask many questions, questions of love, of romance, of foals.. of foals... The one thing that he had had the courage to ask, and had always recieved an answer, yet had been unfaithful to his side of the endeavour.. But why should he have longed for a young one.....? One to raise, to school, to nurture? Why? Why if he could barely remain 'there' for the two beautiful maidens that loved him, that he loved so dearly, should he even consider the possibility of a child that he would only abandon as he had them.. A great hoof strikes the earth beneath him, the wall slicing through the thin layering of moist earth, the earth which creeps up the dark horns, displaying its splay as a mask, a dry, caked mask which holds his hoof in hostage... The damp, wiry strands of wheat creep whistfully up the long of his cannon, stroking his gaskin and resting against his flank.. Resting against him, resting as his mares once did, laying their slender heads against his muscled neck, the threads of their contrastant manes stroking his cheeks.. His mares.. His loves... The two that he could no longer bear to be without....................*
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