A pagan prayer to the wind.

This is a poem. It is for "The Runaway". This happens after that story,but it happens before the other story of this series. I am sorry if this summary was confusing.

The Witch is dead... but someone far more sinister has taken up her throne. Come, Dorothy... your destiny awaits in blood.

"We'll put stars on our hooks/And use them for bait,/Then toss them up/In the sky as we wait." For my grandfather, who was the first and last man to convince me to go fishing.

You'd be surprised what you can see if you look in the right places

Two mad-caps. One correspondence. An endless repetition of events, tiring, and going again and again and again. Insane. Angry. Broken. Calm. Dead.

I'm back and I made some poems for you! I am taking requests so PM me or put it In the reviews. Thanks for reading! Flowers are made of stars. *****

Some poems I made. Inspired by Royal Amisa . Thanks for reading! The Moon is our world as we paint it.

I watch them laugh, I watch them play, I really don't know what else to say. (I apologize for the rhyme. The poem isn't like that, promise.)

A hunted man running from those who pursue him. In the mirror is reflected, hollow, tired, and gaunt, The face of a man, whom evil things haunt...

Just a somewhat cryptic description of my namesake

Who knew a pair of gloves could hide such wonders? Sad, but with a happy ending (: And perhaps a vague reference of drinking...

The wind is my secret, bold and strong, blowing across the moonlit night. The sea is my sorrow, wild and untame, swallowing the unlucky souls that drown.

It is possible to drown within desire.

Poem; inspired by Luna Lovegood from Harry Potter. My version of events on how her mother died, and her reaction to it.

Head filled with myths; can't concentrate. Tried to pretend, but it's too late.

The story of Loki

Narrative poem telling a story of a loss of innocence as divine Eve ventures into the wild, unforgiving environment occupied by her passionate temptress Hazel. Once the boundary is crossed, there is no going back.

This was based on a dream I had. January 8, 2012.

A somewhat daft poem with a vague nod to that Robert Burns feller at the beginning. Dance to the music, and if there isn't any, dance anyway.

A sonnet concerning sirens.

Inspired by Interview with the Vampire by Anne Rice.

Imagine creating a world where all fantasies came to life. Possibly an incomplete series I will work on.

A valiant warrior woman and queen rules her queendom fairly, but evidently, fate wasn't fair, because it allowed her enemies to come, steal her soul, and begin the tyranny of her people.

Illness and disease have random hosts.