Written long (like decades) before I started playing LC but thinking of our games' "social" structure and mores here, hmmm, maybe might resonate... just hope ppl enjoy.

(1) Hero Worship

Your anticipated coolness
most worthy, oh so… wordlessly eloquent
severs
an otherwise unstressed line
expressing my mediocrity
in fountains of doubt.

Your garments revile
every approach,
unraveling the most persistent suitor.

Pray pray
PRAY you don't change,
else
else I'd never
stay.


(2) Where my dreams bleed

Every time you curl away
and every time I speak
the nightmare of you
away and unspeaking
sucks reality into the dream
carrying me upon the wild chargers
you deify and cherish,

to mist-bound and humid places
where the bare ankles of breakfast
and the bare-back breaker of day
dwell in shadows of violet intensity,
penciling the whipping limbs of your dance
and
words encumber,
and I do not interfere.

Here the expression of I /
finger at flesh
the impression of I/
blood to invest

are mane and sword together,
borne in our waterfall communion
defeated in skirmishing emotion
held in the sweat glazing your dance;

measured drops chill in the dry storage
of the ambiguous mind and body body language,
emblems for the repression of self-taught
and honed
dispassion,
a pike’s head edge
planted abreast the rushing charger.

A nightmare when you curl away,
every time I speak too clearly,
every time I speak undreaming.

I close my eyes as the sun lifts to expose its first rays of light to the new day.
Pausing the moment in my mind i take a moment to look around.
I see the light in the distance peering over the landscape
something more is there
The morning dew glistens from the new light and light fog rolls over the blades of grass,
where are the sounds
The morning air gives way to the chirps of song birds in the trees, branches break.
Who is out there,
open my eyes i see the fox moving swiftly into the bushes
Its almost time
A buck walks into the clearing ever so cautious
heart pounding
I breath slowly watching the majestic animal as it licks the air
It walks into range ecitement builds
Slowly i draw back my bow, moister drips from the tip of the arrow
steadly holding waiting for the perfect shot
A Doe walks out of the treeline with young one in tow
excitement fades and beauty sets in
to the new day, a new life emerges, happy and unaware, we are no longer the hunter and the hunted on this day, but the observers of something new.
bow at my side i close my eyes, it is not the day i wanted, but a perfect day it still remained.

"Where my dreams bleed "



Hi , I am Julia Rose;

I would like too say , "I very much injoyed ur poem.
I look forward too reading more of ur work.