Arrogance

He hangs his head and he says "This isn't what I intended. I never meant for this." All he can think of is a dozen lifetimes of regret, disappointment, disgrace and he wishes that there was a simple end to everything. But there never is. And all he can do is offer half-hearted sorries, repeated statements that define his very being. "Intent has nothing to do with it," says the more darker part of his consciousness. "How many times must you play this out before you realise all the things you choose to do or not do mean absolutely nothing. Intend good, intend bad, the result is always the same." He slumps his shoulders.

Wild fangs and claws and deep green eyes like some sort of gem; she's a monster, they say some beast or terror sent to destroy all we ever held dear. She trails a black claw across the surface of the pool the water rippling and the little waves fade into nothing. Water drips from the claw and she sticks a long serpentine tongue out to catch the drops. And she smiles with too many teeth. I am- I am entranced as she beckons me, I want to resist. I must resist! And yet, yet my legs go forward against my will. "My my, little watcher what are you doing so far from safety?" My mouth opens and words spill out. "I sought to

Sweet simple words he says them to her and she she goes red and turns her head away "Shy?" he asks, and takes her hand she stiffles a giggle and gives him a small, quick glance "Maybe." Maybe. Always maybe, that he knows. A simple limbo where there is neither acceptance nor denial. This he tolerates, and allows her her hand and she laughs, brushing back her hair "Does it matter?" "No," he says, shaking his head. "No, it never does." She laughs, and she twirls then in her ever teasing manner blows a kiss before she skirts off into the night. He sighs. Sweet simple words. Always, they are in his employ and always he s

A simple smear of white at the corner of her vision her head turns a symphony of crackling and borderline break revealing nothing nothing at all. It's silly, she says these worries of hers the feeling of being watched by some terror that lurks just out of sight. She remembers how she fled the dark locked her doors drew herself in and surrounded herself with whatever source of light she could. Dozens of candles wax spilt across floors spilling over their holders a white mess just in the corner of her eye and again she jerks her head and her hair on end but nothing nothing again just the thick dry rivuletes of candle

Soft snow fall in the dead of winter. A series of grey on grey on grey? White? It's beyond me and my limited sight. I have no vision for the dark I cannot see beyond that shadow I see this and you. And I- Footprints, oh, of course. You ran through the snow, and it settled on your shoulders, your face, your hair and you laughed as you twirled. And the world around you was grey. But yet it was not a sorrowful thing. For grey - and white and black - all are necessary and the picture they painted was enough. I could only follow silent, enraptured, entranced wondering if I had by chance stumbled into some strange dream. One in

A midnight stroll Always, always then she took them "Come, young man, come away," and never did they decline. With her they did go Into the fields Into the forests And never were they seen again. In the brisk spring nights She sang to them Her simple words enticing A siren of the trees and of the grass "Come, young man, come away." For years this did continue Her midnight strolls Her taking of the foolish The easily tempted The bright eyed dreamers Until - Until no more. At their doors she did not beckon No temptress's lyrical tunes No "come, young man, come away" Her absence had no explanation Just a sudden void Only

We fled from the licking embrace of flame to the cold closing space of tunnels "Don't run, don't run," some THING called out Yet we did just that Further and further into the dark Around our feet water rising, Mere puddles moving up past our ankles to our knees Until finally, there was no walking Nor running But the silent gliding of forms through water and the ravenous sounds of some THING which pursued But our fear, a nebulous and constant feeling, began to disperse into the abyssal dark For despite the cold despite the sense of the chase despite some THING there were small wonders and sights in the dark Hidden shrines an