|When the White Gulls Call|
As one more day of dreaming comes to an end
and the sun once more into the sea must fall.
With one last longing look back to the horizon,
what will you see when the white gulls call?
|Waiting on the Thunder|
Either from some deep instinct or just from the emotions that raced through him he lifted his head and roared with all his might.
Yes my child now you understand what you are,now the reality of how others see you is taking shape. You are the master of all things and your passing will strike fear in their hearts. You can feel the brooding stillness that falls over the land as we pass. Like the fear that spreads before the storm when all creatures see the lightning and hide themselves away waiting on the thunder.
She had followed the scent of the murderer for a full cycle of the moon and now she would have her vengeance.
All the rage and hurt she had felt looking upon the mangled remains of her children now surged through her veins. She breathed deeply the smell of her prey as the hatred stoked the fires within her. The thunder of her wings heralded her coming like great drums of war. Her scream split the heavens and made the mountains shake with fear.
The CallingCome my love, it is time to know all... everything, you remember all those unfilled longings, those wishes that no one granted. Carried with you in time, within the centuries, searching, vaguely remembering and ceasing all life without the knowledge of THE ONE.The Calling by wyldraven
What keeps you with me? We are solitary, but yet, two wolves that pass in the night. Ah, such glowing eyes, you stopped to see me. How was your longing then? Time knows no bounds... into which you stared into timelessness, love without ending. You followed, seeking me... such soft warmth. You remember. Now you remember.
The stars, they fell, one by one to this earth. One by one you counted them. We watched them fall together, you and I. The moon was not there, it was the time before they even knew to call a beginning. Long ago, my sweet love.
The feeling is eternal, sometimes without love, or without hope... carried into lifetimes of regret, sorrow, pain.
But now is not the time to wee