~Vitric Night~A Sequel to ~Velvet Noose~
Original Fiction by
Prologue
Hopeful slivers in the breeze come upon me as I please, to perch swift wings upon my skin, which folding fingers crush within.
Chapter I. Count the Hours
The wind blows through on ardent wings to lift thee from my side. It stirs, in this melancholy, a vice baptized as pride.
Chapter II. Gray
Hearken to my distant song, these words so loosely strung. Your ears yet hear what flesh can’t say, my love, you are too young.
Chapter III. Spider Webs
What wayward paradise is this? What threshold have I crossed? What whisper this that spoke my name? What flame, and I, what moth?
Chapter IV. Shadow Play
Would you drown or would you flail? Where I falter would you fail? If too subtly I impress, how then shall I gain sweet success?
Chapter V. Trickling Out
Living breath or death decayed, above earth or beneath, pallid hearts still quake with love – that sword which stabs its guardian sheath.
Interlude
Sweet is the fodder of heavenly lies. Blessed be deceptions that keep innocent eyes. Sacred: the pretenses that echo in the ear. But still there’s no place for such ignorance here.
Chapter VI. The Green Fairy
Poison blood, absinthe green and eyes of vitric night. One burns and seethes, and heedless claim orbs of dwindling light
Chapter VII. Children
Young ones young hopes brandish high, thinking far what is but nigh. Shallow dreamers we were all, who startled wake when sounds the toll.
Chapter VIII. Riddles
Don’t fly tonight. This night is long and I shall want you by my side. Don’t fly tonight, this night so long and I bereft of tears tonight.
Chapter IX. Waiting Rush
This is method, this is madness, this, a goddess left un-harnessed. This, her folly, this, her daring, this, the swift path to her undoing.
Second Interlude
Such are the delights of having thee, so much hold me enthralled: Thy face, thine eyes, thine arrogance! And thy succumbing arms.
Chapter X. Silver Keys
A sliver of sound pierces my heart. From there, within, it starts. Forfeited now, I dance to bring down the stars
Chapter XI. Marble Angels
This game of cups, of ill-blest spades, wilting flowers, studded graves… it plays, labyrinthine it plays… but in the end this passion fades.
Epilogue
Child of sorrows, thou must let go of wearied fate not yours to sow. Child of morning, thou must hang on to winds that spread the seeds of song.
Art
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~Vitric Night~ and all it's contents (c) me.
How are you? 
D 
Devious Comments
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...life is what we make of it...
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May another day come as it is
And surely you will give me bliss
Rooting from my heart to parts of me
Into droplets of my soul completely
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