From
the tomb of life this passion arises,
Her
love driven by the hooves of hate.
She
dances to the drums of time,
Fast
rides the horse of Fate.
Spurred
by a transcending passion,
She
seeks the souls who stealthily ran.
In
the shadows of time she will wait,
Drawing
the hearts of man.
For
even the dead may one day arise,
Tainted
by the deeds of late.
For
quick is the flame of life,
And
fast rides the horse of Fate.
And that’s how I spend my rainy, summer days. With a long cloak, a black horse and a world
of imagination. (And a good bit of
blueberry crisp, just to polish off last week’s pickings).
~K
