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WickedHolding fire in your palm you scale the marble stairs. I was afraid, now I am not; I know my spirit dares.Wicked
My spirit dares to let you in into my wicked halls, my wicked home, my marble world, my house where madness crawls.
Madness crawls away from you, from the fire in your hand. Darkness flees and stone grows warm, the stone on which we stand.
by ~insignia
TempestStill standing -- Torn by the air Ice wind on ragged skin Wild demon hairTempest
Helm grabbed to stay upright With no place for landing Sails reduced to symbols -- Still standing
by ~insignia
The wordMany sentences away stands a word I've never seen and never heard, but often been, and wish I had the tongue to say.The word
It's spelled with feeling more than rules, pronounced like the sound of a drum, for many dancers yet to come, for suits and ties and naked fools.
Thus I wait, thus I stare. Something is to change. Mind is strange, feet are bare. Longing to create.
by ~insignia
The compliment machineYes, you're lovely, I must admit -- in certain ways, on certain days. Your downside stares me in the face but I have made myself blind to it.The compliment machine
I never wanted to bother you. I thought perhaps we could be friends. This is where the delusion ends, and you won't notice. You never do.
Now I stop what should not have been. You're still lovely, I must admit, but I shall make myself blind to it -- no longer your compliment machine.
by ~insignia
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