Written by Perseus, Lord Trufort
I am not a poet. I won't inflict you with my attempts at verse, having learned this lone truth during the past 2000 (and counting) years.
I love a powerful force, a lady more ancient than I, a lady who was a Phoenix of Fire and has become, through her greatest love, a vampire.
"Her greatest love? -- but aren't you her greatest love?" I hear them demand.
Yes and no. I took the name of Trufort during the middle ages, dark ages for this soul of night who had once lived -- and died -- under the Egyptian sun. All roads took this soldier of old out of Rome of old, delivering me to many futures.
Yes, many futures. People speak as if there is only one. So I'll turn back on my own opinion and say there is but one. . . but one beloved named Rhea!
She has heard my protestations that I can't make good poetry. Which is why I offer the following. Good or bad, it expresses my mood at that particular moment.
Sometimes, my temperment turns on hers,
sometimes, my heart burns with hers.
Then I realize worlds revolve without me,
then I know all things resolve on one key.
The Lady sings "My Favorite Things"
while she owns the hearts of Kings.
These thoughts are the rainbow colors of my heart.
Please read her own precious comments at her personal place: |By Darkness Saved|. She is truly the artist of words, life and love.
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Here I stand, in the sea of blue roses, silver moon glowing down. The light caresses each soft curve of petal, vanishes in the shadows between, illumes the leaves, sparks off the thorns, and I wait, alone yet not alone. The bower breeze brings the voices of ghosts. And voices from the house, where light shines from the windows like light from eyes, and soul. This moment makes me think all waits even as all moves. |
Return to: |Lord Trufort|
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|Mortal or Vampire? Choose the Path|
|Vampire Valentine: The Heart of Your Hosts| | |Soul Blood: Poem, Prose and Pictures| |
|In a Welcoming Vein: Vampire Renaissance map|
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|The Entrance Gate|
