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Emptiness, a clean start

Space in your head,

If you let life go on

Then there's place for Magic.

Then the world will open itself,

And everything is possible.

HELLOWEEN LIII

elloween contains 9 letters, The Devil's Number - Witches & Warlocks unleash omnipotent spells with words of Power - the sacrifices have been presented of their own accord, as we delight in ridding Satan's Earth of deserving vermin such as they. 

Nymphs and Satyrs have arisen to fan the hellflames of Lust & debauchery, dancing madly in the kundalini rush of Life & Death, the Incubus & Succubus have flown therefrom to possess the minds and bodies of those seeking release to emerge empowered & enraptured of passion's thrall.

Upon cobblestone skulls we see the Trapezoidal Throne there lit by sulfurous plumes flanking, and glowing the heads of those impaled. A procession there adjoining to receive Infernal Blessings in a morbid pageant of joy unending.

The Night gaunts call! Nightmares emerge to become as one! The Shadows possess one and all! ∞

In Nomine Satanas,

Warlock Draconis Blackthorne
The Haunted Noctuary, Infernal Empire, Black Earth
31 October LIII Anno Satanas

I have never seen

those double rainbows,

the glimmers of light

little voices point out.

I have never known

the smile of an angel,

the kiss of the wind.

I have never been

the kind of girl

to hope for magic.

I wish things

because I know they will never happen.

But in your hands

the world holds something

more than just a sunset…

I might call it love

or magic.

I am a realist

but in this moment if you asked me to freeze time

so we could take one more breath in this world together

I might try.

Emptiness, a clean start.

Space in your head,

If you let life go on

Then there's place for magic.

Then the world will open itself,

And everything is possible.

In the dreary day
In the dreary night
I, a wingless fae,
Weep in life’s dull light
Dream of lands forlorn
Chained in thorns I mourn

Under influence of a Demon,

French Sorcerer, black dog.

Being known as The Smasher,

Not unlike the Desh...

Placed in a Franciscan monastery,

By his mother in her commandery.

He became enraged, abusing him,

By beating him, he plotted revenge.

He said a black spaniel appeared to him,

Promising to help him, going to his aid

Surrendering himself as in a raid.

Arrested on charges of Sorcery,

Spell casting, hatred and grief.

The Demon never rescued him,

For such forces of the law he can't win.

He was found guilty and hanged,

But his spirit was encouraged.

Now he hates even more,

Horror, destruction and gore.

[He was executed on July 20, 1582].

Dragon’s Claw

By JFarrell

(inspired by Robin Hobb’s “Farseer Trilogy”)

As they found Prince Verity,

So you find me;

Dishevelled, exhausted,

But I can’t stop.

So,

Covered in weeks old dust,

I take up my mallet and chisel,

And return to my stone,

My half formed dragon…

Years,

I have been here,

Chipping away,

Scraping,

Smoothing..

Come closer,

Look…

A single, hooked,

Curved talon;

Thrice times as long,

As I am tall.

The edges are chipped, uneven,

My dragon,

Who I shall name Malleable,

Lives in the mountains;

The talons are chipped,

From the mountain debris, crushed,

As she lands on a ledge,

And just looks out,

At everything.

Forever.

My Rogue

By JFarrell

LOYAL!

Hurt him, hurt his

He will hunt you down and cut your throat

No poisons,

He wants you to hear him breathing behind you

As he cuts your throat

He wants you to know

This is not an accident,

Not some bad wine, or foul cheese

But

Revenge, atonement

Sharp, serrated, deadly

He is hot headed

Quick to anger

Quick to act,

While others might make plans

Delay

He is in and out

With everybody dead

A whirlwind of serrated steel

And he listens

And I mean, REALLY listens

To me, to you

To everyone

He hears what we all say

He hears all our secrets

He knows where you buried the bodies

He knows where the King hides his favourite rings

He knows who the bishop slept with last night

And here my rogue, my thief is born

I hope the three of them will be good friends

My rogue, mage and dragon

I hope they have wondrous, magical adventures

With lots of rainbows :)

Please show me your dragons

I bet they are majestic

I bet they would take my breath away

With their beauty

And the world needs more beauty

My Mage

By JFarrell

My mage,

May not be a mage

(haven’t decided yet);

But

My story will have a dragon,

And my dragon needs a mage,

Someone who commands magic

Magician and dragon is like

Tom and Jerry

Can’t have one without the other.

So, my magician….

Has long, thin fingers,

To manipulate the elements,

Delicate fingers,

To weave his symbols of conjuring,

Setting the world around him ablaze,

Or encasing it in ice, preserving it.

Expressive fingers,

Tender fingers…

So tender, I want to be caressed by them,

To control the elements, and use those same fingers to convey their love for me,

Wow!

I gotta work on them fingers more.

And I know it’s a cliche, a stereotype,

But the eyes are piercing.

Don’t know the colour, yet,

But,

All that power,

That responsibility,

The eyes convey wisdom, truth,

Trust, loyalty

And ,

Always searching for truth

What he, or she, sees isn’t everything,

So they always look,

And I mean REALLY look

To see what you are hiding.

And, I’m so ashamed it took this long to consider,

Maybe, my mage is a she

(am I really that sexist? I so apologise, I thought I was better than that)

But,

This is how my mage is born.

As with my dragon,

They are here now.

My dragon is sooooooooooo beautiful :)

I wanna cry

And, my mage so heroic

I would love to be my mage.

I bet your dragons (and rainbows)

Are more beautiful,

More majestic,

Than mine :)

Please,

Tell me;

I would really love to see,

And

Stand in awe.