“Bow before oh bow before the Mistress of the Blade.”
She dances in shrouds of silk scarlet.
Heel over heel in spinning in time.
Fabric twisting ‘round her delicate ankles.
“Praise oh praise the Mistress of the Blade.”
The sword an extension of her graceful arm as she twirls it about in Mid-September air.
Crisp September air.
The blade slashes through leaves as they fall.
Hilt of gold adorned in ruby and diamond.
Gleaming and glistening as it slides from her grasp. Wailing through that oh so crisp Mid-September air.
“Watch in wonder oh watch the Mistress of the Blade.”
By night she finds herself clad in black satin.
By night her feet and wrist sore.
By night the dance continues long and strong.
Swords still cutting through the air, gleaming under pulsing moon.
And still her feet dance gracefully.
In Mid-September firelight between smoke and ash and ash and spark.
The pungent smell of burning leaf.
And unique to her a light blend cinnamon spices.
The Mid-September blade queen.
“She turns in time oh turns in time, the Mistress of the Blade.”
The midnight hour dawns upon the Mistress of the Blade.
Mid-September midnight.
And dance along ‘round the fire, does the mystic crowd—drunk on life and warm alcoholic cider.
And from the trees above, branches shed themselves.
An array of leaves twirling down making a spectacle of themselves
But they can outshine the blade queen.
They just become a part of her scene.
For amidst it all skips in time the Mistress of the Blade.
Dancing to the beat of a fiddle and a flute.
All around the fire the rotate set on welcoming the season.
“Bow before oh bow before the Mistress of the Blade. The bringer of the Autumn wind.”
She dances in shrouds of silk scarlet.
Heel over heel in spinning in time.
Fabric twisting ‘round her delicate ankles.
“Praise oh praise the Mistress of the Blade.”
The sword an extension of her graceful arm as she twirls it about in Mid-September air.
Crisp September air.
The blade slashes through leaves as they fall.
Hilt of gold adorned in ruby and diamond.
Gleaming and glistening as it slides from her grasp. Wailing through that oh so crisp Mid-September air.
“Watch in wonder oh watch the Mistress of the Blade.”
By night she finds herself clad in black satin.
By night her feet and wrist sore.
By night the dance continues long and strong.
Swords still cutting through the air, gleaming under pulsing moon.
And still her feet dance gracefully.
In Mid-September firelight between smoke and ash and ash and spark.
The pungent smell of burning leaf.
And unique to her a light blend cinnamon spices.
The Mid-September blade queen.
“She turns in time oh turns in time, the Mistress of the Blade.”
The midnight hour dawns upon the Mistress of the Blade.
Mid-September midnight.
And dance along ‘round the fire, does the mystic crowd—drunk on life and warm alcoholic cider.
And from the trees above, branches shed themselves.
An array of leaves twirling down making a spectacle of themselves
But they can outshine the blade queen.
They just become a part of her scene.
For amidst it all skips in time the Mistress of the Blade.
Dancing to the beat of a fiddle and a flute.
All around the fire the rotate set on welcoming the season.
“Bow before oh bow before the Mistress of the Blade. The bringer of the Autumn wind.”
After changing back I saw the remains of that man. It was enough to make me sick. I just fell to my knees looking up at the sky. A girl walks up beside me and kneels down. "Don't look so down." I go to look at her and no one is there. I look back up at the sky waiting to hear that voice again. There wasn't any sound anywhere around. Out of the silence i could hear a faint breath from the night behind me. I move to the right when i hear the shot.
It grazes the side of my head and i fall to the ground. I hear footsteps running towards me as my eyes slowly close.
It grazes the side of my head and i fall to the ground. I hear footsteps running towards me as my eyes slowly close.
I know what happened,
I know that your parents are divorced,
because I was the first
you told.
I want to help you,
but I don't know
what all that
pressure
and sorrow feels like.
Like you're drowning
in a pool of tears
and your friends
are just watching and
laughing,
like it's a joke.
But it's not a joke,
it's your life.
They aren't even
your friends,
they are just people
who say they earned
that title.
I don't understand.
My parents aren't
divorced,
they don't fight
every time when
they see each
others face.
I can't help.
But you're
my friend.
My best
friend.
And I will
try to help.
I will stand by
your side even when
we are miles away.
Because even though
it might not feel like it,
you are never
alone.
I know that your parents are divorced,
because I was the first
you told.
I want to help you,
but I don't know
what all that
pressure
and sorrow feels like.
Like you're drowning
in a pool of tears
and your friends
are just watching and
laughing,
like it's a joke.
But it's not a joke,
it's your life.
They aren't even
your friends,
they are just people
who say they earned
that title.
I don't understand.
My parents aren't
divorced,
they don't fight
every time when
they see each
others face.
I can't help.
But you're
my friend.
My best
friend.
And I will
try to help.
I will stand by
your side even when
we are miles away.
Because even though
it might not feel like it,
you are never
alone.