Her history is scarred
like her reflection.
She teaches that
steel and makeup
can both cut a man’s soul
when properly applied.
Her voice is viscous
like blood and power.
She preaches that
can sever a lineage
even if the blood remains.
Her grip is unyielding
like a lock without a key.
She seizes those
already stolen assets which
can further her goals
and ends her enemies before dinner.
The unyielding floor boards pressed into my knees, alerting me that I was not in my room anymore. My black feather cloak moved with my hands as I brushed my fingers over the worn blemished wood.
A series of small bright flares caught my attention, and without looking up I knew I was surrounded by a multitude of candles. Some were tapers and some were pillars and some were tea lights and some were salvaged. All were pressed tightly together and had obviously been burning for some time. The wax runoffs pooled together to create a sealing ring around me.
I looked up. Continue reading “Dream Journal: 2017-05-17.01”
Can’t a body get some rest? Here I am, sitting on some rocks on the side of a mountain. It’s just before dawn. It’s just after sunset. It’s the height of noon. It’s the dead of night.
Where and when I am doesn’t matter. The only thing that is important here is that I am seated and I am at peace. I’ve had very little of either status in the waking lately.
And then the Swarm came. Continue reading “Dream Journal: 2017-05-15.01”
I had closed my eyes for a long rest before getting on with the late evening’s obligations. I did not realize I had fallen asleep until I had opened my eyes and found myself standing in a place of darkness illuminated only by the two large concentric rings of white light surrounding me on the ground.
“Trust me.” Continue reading “Dream Journal: 2017-04-27.01”
*profuse bitching about the consequences of profuse bitching goes here*
Dreamt I was on my way to help a friend with a ritual, but to get to his ritual room, I had to pass through a hallway lined with altars and shrines. I kept my hands to myself as I went and listened to a mutual friend identify who each table was dedicated to solely by the things on the table.
The mutual friend stopped me at a pair of small tables so close together the covering cloths were touching. Continue reading “Dream Journal: 2017-04-17.01”