There are shadows
of you
in this empty room - places
your fingers have
touched and moments
you've breathed
that we can't take back
and I wouldn't
want to, anyway.
Everywhere I find
little pieces of
your life
left as souvenirs
of this brief
togetherness.
Your voice echoes in my
loneliness.
Please come back
and make this house
a home again.

To live is not just to exist.
It's so much more in-depth than that, so much more daring, so much more dangerous.
To live is to take a risk, a great and holy risk. And what do we risk?
Our lives.

There is a wind that whispers through the cold day and swirls through the colder night
There is a wind that comes from unknown places and hurries on into the haze
There is a wind that sighs with pleasure in the harvest fields and rattles happily in the treetops
There is a wind that carries falling leaves and drops them at your feet as you pass by

I shall miss your utter stupidity,
even though it used to annoy,
I shall miss you living under my bed,
even though you chewed up my toys

You made me feel safe,
and hid during thunder,
You jumped on my bed,
and messed up my covers

You smelled and you shed,
you barked constantly,
you tore up the carpet,
(who cares, it was ugly)

You were a nanny,
a wolf, and a babysitter,

living half empty
driving after a love that will fill us
hanging by a half-starved hope
that around the next bend
we'll find happily-ever-after
nobody stops to wonder
if maybe we're running
away from the one thing
that can ever bring peace

Last night I had a dream
I wish had never ended.
I dremt I'd found the woman
my birth had taken me from.
We reunited, as before in heaven's vales,
but then my eyes were opened by the sun
and then the morning breeze.

I shut them tight again
to see her pretty face instead,
but all is faded now--I can't recall
but a trace, but a footprint left on
the seashore, left for a crazed lover

Used to be I could see
into the sunset of my future
Everything smiling at me
and just crying "adventure!"
Somewhere between then and now
I caved to fear somehow
Next thing I know he has
stolen my hope from my hands
and I find my dreams
on the ground at my feet
in pieces

And now I'm locked up without even a view
captive, without a hope of finding you

Come find me tonight

Not long into their walk they passed a small park that lay silent by the side of the road. It stretched back from the sidewalk into the darkness and was watched over by large, spreading trees. The faintest glimmer of reflected moonlight betrayed the presence of a shallow pond reposing under the overhanging leaves.

Preamble

Once upon a white summer, in the kingdom on Arayle , the only daughter of King Reynold and Queen Loryssi was born.

There is something special about the night, about the dark, about the stillness. There is something that draws both the joyful and the depressed to the night. A quiet street beckons the dreamer to some nocturnal romp.