MP2 CYBERLIT ZINE - 1998 EDITION
Established 1997
Released Tuesday August 4th, 1998 in Montreal, Quebec, Canada
Revised Friday October 16th, 1998 in Montreal, Quebec, Canada

PREAMBLE

martyr /'ma:te(r)/ -n. 1 a person killed for persisting in a belief. b person
who suffers for a cause etc. c person who suffers or pretends to suffer to get
pity etc. 2 (foll. by to) colloq. constant sufferer from (an ailment).
-v. 1 put to death as a martyr. 2 torment.
martyrdom n. [Greek martur witness]

MARTYR: PHASE II (MP2) is a non-profit Internet literary organization devoted
to the exposition of computer literature by writers in cyberspace. The
permanent members of this cyberlit group publish their works yearly in group
compilations using the Internet as a publishing and distribution medium.

INTRODUCTION

	Welcome to the first edition of the MARTYR: PHASE II (MP2) cyberlit
        group. In this literary pack, we've compiled some of the best artwork
        from our members around the globe throughout the 1997-1998 initial
        season of MP2. It has taken a long time to produce and the delays have
        been painstaking at times, so I hope that despite these problems we've
        maintained your faith and patience with us.
	A lot of unforseen things went wrong (as it does with the creation of
        any new arts group) from the start: computer upgrade difficulties,
        debates over format, personal conflicts. Somehow, we managed to
        overcome all of these to produce this pack for our readership. I hope
        you find the wait well worth it. I know it has been for me.
	For those familiar with the original MARTYR Poetry Collective
        (1995-1997), some faces are new in the crowd. MP2 is a whole new
        generation of poets and justice's project so expect to see some new
        innovations taking place.
	Without further discourse, let's get straight to the poetry. Enjoy.

- Blackbird / MP2 [webmaster.poet]

        P.S. The Revision update was put forward to correct formatting errors
             that resulting in translating the zine into ASCII plain text.
             Our apologies for any difficulties you may have had, gentle
             reader, in working around badly constructed margins.

             - Blackbird

TABLE OF CONTENTS

JUSTICE
Mother
changed forever
Baby
Life partners
Smile
Ghosts Revisited
To Whom it May Concern
A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words
Graceful Teacher
Goodbye Childish Ways

BLACKBIRD
Until The Next Time
The Eternal Frown
Jamais
An Endless Face
Evil Eternity
My Honey Bee
Stay
Infinite Legacy

ANNE-LISE
Together in a world of men
Tears of the Earth
Autumn Love
Recurring Nightmare I
Broken Grief
Recurring Nightmare II
Breed
Reflections
Aphrodite, By Night
A Mother's Love
Rebirth
Souldeath: The Vampire Peri

YEN LI
The Cookies of Hate
Sister's Abode
My Country's Anthem
Grape
A Single Sonnet
sheeng
The Homeroom Poem

SHANE MARKIE
Black Poem, Black World
Old Man Passing Through Prescott, Arizona
Sunday Sonnet
House of Mirrors

ATROPOS
For Katie
The Demon
Future
Dreams
Utopia
Riddles
Arms of Nemesis

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P       O       E       T       R       Y

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        JUSTICE

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	I look in the mirror
	and what do I see?
	You,
	more and more each day.
 
	This doesn't grieve me
	just perplexes me.
	This complicated
	mother-daughter bond.
 
	As a child,
	you were my smiling face.
	My encouraging nod.
	My guiding hand.
 
	As a pre-teen,
	you were my rival.
	The wall I wished to surpass.
 
	Now as we've both grown older
	and hopefully wiser.
	I see you as what I guess you've always
	been. my mother.
 
"Mother"
Composed by justice / MP2 on October 23rd, 1995
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Waiting, wanting, not knowing.
My whole world could change in an instant.
 
I want to cry so badly.
These strangers won't let me.
 
I want to be back in my room, being consoled by my mother.
The sterile walls of the hospital have no forgiveness to give.
 
I'm dreaming, I'm watching a really bad after school special.
This world is not mine.
 
This is the world of those I felt better than,
felt pity for.
 
I should be shopping for my grad dress.
Planning the next party.
Cramming for the next big test.
 
I should be doing a lot.
I should have done a lot.
I will be doing a lot.
 
RIP for the old Justice is dead.
 
"changed forever"
Composed by justice / MP2 on March 3rd, 1996
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
        No cute little giggles. No first words. No adoring looks of 
unequalled love. No bonding mother-daughter moments at three in the morning.
No she will never ruin my favourite blouse with unintentional vomit. No midnight
wake up calls. No unwanted disruptions from my schooling.
        For good or bad, I will never hold our baby. The baby we both wanted.
The baby we convinced ourselves we needed. Please God give me the chance to take
care of one of your little angels in the future. The image of her face will haunt my dreams forever.
 
"Baby"
Composed by justice / MP2 on March 18th, 1996
 
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        My heart soared to heights the pleasures of the flesh have and never
will take me. My soul tingled with the pleasures of the taste of fairy tale
juice. These words can't be of human descent for their sound is angelic in
nature. Love, happiness, have all new definitions that Webster himself could
not elaborate on.
 
        My hazy state of exhaustion leaves my mind to daydream of the church,
the ring, the honeymoon. Wedded bliss is too common a phrase to describe the
enjoyment he and I will share in our life's entrapment.
 
"Life partners"
Composed by justice / MP2 on March 24th, 1996
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Smile
For if you don't you'll let her know
Smile
So the hurt inside won't overcome her
Smile
The little ones coos you must relinquish
Smile
 
"Smile"
Composed by justice / MP2
 
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The children's screams invade my dreams.
	The once quiet, safe, and clear world comes to be a 
		junkyard for those children to play.
 
The children's fears invade my awakening.
	My fears become theirs, their lives of destinies unplayed
 		come to a halt with the realization of my fears.
 
My needs are their necessities.
   My triumphs are their lives played out.
      My future is their deaths foretold.
 
"Ghosts Revisited"
Composed by justice / MP2 in the Fall of 1996

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They stare like lizards,
leer like predators,
pounce like kittens,
scratch like cats.

They joke like hyenas,
laugh like chimps,
hide like snails,
scurry like mice.

They creep like critters,
entice like koalas,
lie like leopards,
live like rats.

"To Whom it May Concern"
Composed by justice / MP2 on July 14th & 16th, 1997

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he's thin
	does that mean he's...

sick?
poor?
addicted?

he's unshaven
		does that mean he's...

unkempt?
unreal?
uneducated?
 
he's dishevelled
		does that mean he's...

disoriented?
off the map?
crazy?

you judge
	 does that mean you're...

cocky?
opinionated?
wrong?!

you hate
	does that mean you're to be...

hated?
believed?
convinced?!

"A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words"
Composed by justice / MP2 on July 17th & 18th, 1997

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She sits, lecturing on the abusive nature of our people.  
The anger stifled in her ageing yet beautiful throat.
The heat keeps a rouge on her cheeks.
her passion is reflected in her eyes, academic and human.

As she sits her skirt waves over her newly exposed legs.
My attention is diverted as the heat pushes the fabric higher.
Shockingly slender and graceful. Does she dance? She should!
Legs like hers should never be hidden.

"Graceful Teacher"
Composed by justice / MP2 on September 11th, 1997

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Goodbye childish ways;
May they never be far from hand.
Your ways were the aid that consoled
When frowns were worn by all.
You gave strength to those in pain,
And you followed them to their rest.
Now you follow the haunted,
And the blue tears are your guide.

And it seems to me you filled the world,
With a laughter long since past:
Always dreaming of a rainbow
When the world was grey.
And your resolve will remain to us,
Among peaceful, hallowed dreams;
Your essence for us all defines
The solace ever dreamed.

"Goodbye Childish Ways"
Composed by justice / MP2 on February 4th, 1998
  
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        BLACKBIRD

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for awhile lovers' lips seemed to hold their breathless pattern,
locked in each other's loving embrace and never letting go,
until the last possible second before the broken parting,
when one beheld the other's mournful tears mirrored in their transfixed gaze,
 
at last the facial tone turns serious and heartache burns deep,
begging for one more kiss as if there would be no tomorrow,
then listening to those bittersweet footfalls echoing down the street,
whispering in the waning silence somewhere a sullen "good-bye".
 
"Until the Next Time"
Composed by Blackbird / MP2 on Wednesday July 9th, 1997
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
when life is traded for emptiness,
solitudes form out of sadness,
the depression becomes tireless,
and the tears become relentless,
 
life traded for death,
is all that my eyes ever seem to see,
and will probably continue to peruse until my last breath,
by allowing my life's work of hate to consume me,
 
there is still some redemption for good left in this miserable land,
I feel it wrenching at me everyday, making me all the more aware,
sickened at the sight of all that is foul turned errand,
it's just that evil always overlaps the efforts of those who care,
 
so it becomes a mystery of how much happiness will it take to drown,
that self-etched, masked facade I carry of an eternal frown.
 
"The Eternal Frown"
Composed by Blackbird / MP2 on Wednesday August 20th, 1997
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
rien  dire,
rien  faire,
rien pour sourire,
rien est claire...
 
rien de crier,
rien  croire,
rien  prier,
rien que dsespoir,
 
"Jamais"
Composer par Blackbird / MP2 le Samedi Septembre 6, 1997
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
there is a flower of a smile peaking on the crest of your lips,
a shallow rainbow light streaming from deep in those breathtaking brown eyes,
accentuating a laughing dimpled complexion fulfilled in blushing rosy cheeks, completed in windblown brown hair that dances in sway with the weeping willows,
 
"An Endless Face"
Composed by Blackbird / MP2 on Monday September 22nd, 1997
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
hatred bleeds the hurtful world with sorrow,
scaring into paranoia the pragmatic populace,
because anyone could be next to die tomorrow,
and death before its time is the truest disgrace,
 
innocent individuals just out for a stroll down memory lane are wiped out,
their existence erased from our memories scarcely seconds after their burial,
and a heartless cycle left to unravel the love we live without,
for in our passivity we come to all be members in the same cult of denial,
 
and when the innocent are gone,
there is no more absolute good left,
and evil unites the realm as one,
in love bereft.
 
"Evil Eternity"
Composed by Blackbird / MP2 on Thursday October 9th, 1997
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
the rose of a moment's bliss sinks into an abyss of a love fallen amiss
with desire equivocating emeralds in her eyes beyond the surrealism of this
time lost to my fantastic dreams of the pure essence that lies in her kiss
that so softly in the smattering of her lip upon my mouth reminds me of a hiss
 
the realization of knowledge at that moment becomes vividly clear
that in the briefest span she has related to me more tomes than would appear
the sum of my passion for her could possibly contain in the cosmos of a year
in which our lives truly began with more love that two could estimate to bear
 
the impact is still being felt as its elusive changes affect our sensibility
to cope with this newly created life constructed from our fanciful faculty
and born through our combined procreation into a world of limited possibility
to roam the countryside of our hearts in search of its namesake companion: fantasy
 
the broken hearth of my disposition into your possession lives with you free
of the constraints that the romantic inhibits in the very person I want to be
so the feelings that condescend my logic shift seasons into intimate decree
signed, sealed, and delivered in the pollen of my love to my honey bee
 
"My Honey Bee"
Composed by Blackbird / MP2 on Wednesday November 5th, 1997
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
the most obvious thing happened while we spent more time together
and that was the union of two beating hearts in a sea of love at sail
the security in ourselves and in our feelings seemed to last forever
but it didn't because we were young victims of abuse that led to betrayal
 
we had to go our separate ways and live out our lives the way they were meant
even if it forced me to give up the beautiful messenger in dreams sent
to rescue me from myself as the caretaker of my heart and graceful savior
but it proved to be too much of a lost cause in the end for her to endeavor
 
and so the story ends of the sweet princess and i at opposite ends
with pleading looks in our eyes as if we both had something to say
i placed my lips upon hers and whispered into her mouth as if to make amends:
"stay. (away)"
 
"Stay"
Composed by Blackbird / MP2 on Thursday November 27th, 1997
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
the moonlight crescent cascades across the evening sky like a star possessed,
with the enchantment of prophecy present in the misty night's atmosphere,
alluding to the fact that destiny is on the verge of being witnessed,
in the manifested craft of poetry as it shall be written here...
 
"Infinite Legacy"
Composed by Blackbird on Thursday December 18th, 1997
 
=============================================================================

        ANNE-LISE

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The scars upon my wrists, 
and the tears welling in her eyes, 
began a friendship in the midst of hatred 
that realised my dreams. 
The flame of hope that drove me onward 
had died away and gone. 
The need for love that kept me going 
had turned away and run. 
And in my smile she saw the sadness, 
in my blackness someone cared. 
Compassion's light smoothed away 
my shadow of despair. 
She didn't promise better things tomorrow, 
Just a hug for me today. 
And in her arms was the love I'd longed for, 
To clear away the pain. 
As she kissed my smile and combed my hair 
I succumbed to happiness again. 
Two hearts united by mutual needs, 
Together in a world of men.
 
"Together in a world of men"
Composed by Anne-Lise / MP2
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
What about love?
What about destiny?
What about peace and life and all we need
To live in harmony?

What about hope?
Dispel our misery.
Can we find it in ourselves
To end the suffering that we see?

There's a world of wretched hatred
In which the innocents must live.
Our child's cries are never noticed
We have no kindness left to give.

Did we ever heed the warnings?
Was there anyone who tried?
When we closed our eyes against the light
And allowed our world to die?

As the mushroom clouds above our cities suddenly appeared;
We cried out for forgiveness, "Please take away our fear!"
When television told us all the horror and dismay
We sat in veiled safety over half a world away.

As our governments defiled us, in pursuit of matricidal dreams,
We were manipulated through naivet and Machiavellian schemes.
In the insane belief that playing God would harbour some reward,
They claimed a quick solution, over war with guns and swords.

Cities lay in desolation, blackened corpses lined our streets.
No predators left to circle, no flies upon their feast.
All that remained was eerie silence, broken by the pattering of acid rain,
No voices left to call for help or scream out Gaia's pain.

When at last the sand had settled and the elements again controlled,
They smiled, surveyed the damage, noting down the bloody toll.
For the deed was done, the war now theirs, victory did abound.
Despite the death of billions that stained the wasted ground.

Only then did they emerge from bunkers, to belatedly put to rights
This world destroyed by madness, in a display of pride and might.
They had shown their power over life and death; They did decide.
Even for the generations whose futures they'd denied.

As our planet's tears drown us, and her blood wells from the land,
We strove in vain to wash the filth that covers Humanity's hands.
For those in power raped the Earth, and made Gaia our virgin slave,
Made her majestic plains a barren waste and her fertile lands a grave.

"Tears of the Earth"
Composed by Anne-Lise / MP2

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Your breath is so soft and silent
like the cool autumn's breeze.
How sweet you look there on our bed
as I watch you breath.
 
My mind slips to the time when we first met
How your loving radiance filled my soul.
Your sweet love made me feel wanted
and I knew I would fulfill your needs too.
 
Oh darling how I loved the day we were wed
When I took your hand in mine, and when we said
That we would love each other till the end of time
God how that made me feel so sublime.
 
For your love means so much to me, that I never give it up
I only wish to please you, please you till you've had enough.
 
"Autumn Love"
Composed by Anne-Lise / MP2
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
It almost seems a dream.
I walk serene
and take another breath of clean, refreshing air
and stare into the ebony night.
While moonlight glimmers on the distant lake
I make my way slowly home
and feel somehow, I'm not alone.
Someone is stealing quietly on my trail.
And then, I turn and see his pale form
reach out to grab me by the hair,
and scared, I scream and flee
into the cover of the trees around me.
Unwisely I ignore the noise I'm making
as I, shaking, crying, rush into the
foliage to escape the footsteps running
swiftly after me.
And then his arms around my waist.
Rough ground comes up to meet my face
and pride, virginity are sacrificed
and blackness fills my soul, which died
this night to satiate a bastard's lust.
Forsaken, by the God I trusted.
 
"Recurring Nightmare I"
Composed by Anne-Lise / MP2
 
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Raw emotion and primal rage swirl in my mind 
As I cry through pain-closed eyes into the rain. 
Sky-blue anger cold in my veins prevents the flood 
Of grief that will surely consume my soul. 
But for now my heart a shattered mirror becomes, 
Reflecting to infinity my broken sanity. 
In her vacant, wounded eyes lies a query left unanswered, 
Her dying breath a parting kiss to the world, 
And to the life I knew. 
As I hold her fragile form in my arms, 
Murdered by the hands of lust 
when a knife would so easily have sufficed, 
I scream out unto the uncaring elements.
My trail of arterial blood is a testament 
To the tenacity of my will; 
Until finally, and by my own choice, 
into the faded night I succumb to the agony, 
And whereas before I had not the strength to crawl, 
I somehow find the strength to run. 
 
"Broken Grief"
Composed by Anne-Lise / MP2
 
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Hate, death.
The smell of meths.
Rancid bacon taints his breath.
Reamed, a scream.
Begone foul dreams!
Can this horror be what it seems?
Terror in my stomach pit.
A fear-borne fit, the smell of shit.
And its there, all laid bare.
I can only stop and stare,
As he grabs her by the hair and plunges in the knife.
Strife, gone from life.
A scream! Such screams. Nothing but the scream
With its sad echoes did the silence break.
Awake. Painted black, off the tracks.
A prayer! I pray for the light.
Hoping not to be prey for the night.
Holding tight to my tear-stained pillow;
Awake, so tired from the fight.
 
"Recurring Nightmare II"
Composed by Anne-Lise / MP2
 
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When the morning comes with the rising sun
Child of darkness, there's no need to run.
You just have to pray, keep praying for the light,
Pray for the dawn or be prey to the night.
 
As the sky falls twilight and this day comes to pass,
The greyness reflects my soul, so overcast.
The feelings inside tell me something is wrong.
Why can't I leave? I do not belong.
 
Yet the answers to my questions elude my mind
And I'm reminded of all that I've left behind.
Although I didn't deserve happiness in life
I didn't anticipate this thrust of Fate's knife.
 
I devoted my life to fighting the Powers That Be
Blinded in righteousness, I couldn't see
That our lives are a fight we have to face on our own
And the struggle consumes all that we've known.
 
As your time approaches with every indrawn breath
Behold the single constant in your lives; Death.
And the tiniest victories, your hopes, all your dreams,
The smallest of projects, insanest of schemes
Are all that you have until we take you away.
And nothing can change that, nothing you say.
 
We're not enfolded in death, nor is life our prize.
Look closer at us and see the pain in our eyes.
We fulfill our duties, as each one of us must.
We are the chosen to change your lives into dust.
 
"Breed"
Composed by Anne-Lise / MP2
 
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Death,
A double-edged sword
Slicing through ambition.
My memories of better times
Unfurl behind my weeping eyes;
Small points of happiness that shatter
The otherwise ebony vista of anguish
Which consumes me.
Who am I to disturb the universe?
Just a speck in a field of lights.
Serpentine numbness draws tight
Around my expectations;
Asphyxiation of my dreams.
I aspired to mediocrity,
Yet silent angels wept blood tears
For my sorrow.
I gaze upwards into
Polluted skies,
Allowing my dying eyes to weep
At the beauty of the dawn.
As vision fades with the death of thought
Into apprehensive oblivion,
I whisper unheard
"Help me."
My shattered dreams and body
Meaningless,
My four rented walls are all
That remains.
 
"Reflections"
Composed by Anne-Lise / MP2

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The colour of orgasm,
Of the sensual budding flower of my labia,
Of the myriad hues and secretive shades
That form my deeper, penetrated self.
This vibrant colour floods my senses,
Warms my vision, holds me captive.
My body arches in her arms.
Rainbow sparks in an explosion of blush;
My mind adrift, face aflush,
Played out in harmony, scintillating flute.
As depth increases, needs fulfilled,
Richness pours from welling lust
As desire forms me into a pure note.
Through pleasure, and swells
Of sybaritic passion
I longingly gaze at her androgynous
Lips, and love her more as,
My smile kissed and cheek caressed,
She whispers softly, "I am yours."

"Aphrodite, By Night"
Composed by Anne-Lise / MP2

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

She approaches me in dreams,
Timid at first, shy of companionship.
Beauty through spontaneity.
How dark are her eyes, so like the night, casting
Shadows bleak as heartbreak,
Cold as loss.
Yet her smile carries such radiant light
Across the Eden of our new-found love.
Tear-moistened lips bless the contours
Of desiring sex
And nervous fingers describe slight
Circles on pliant flesh.
Yet all is dream; Yielding fantasy that
Plagues my thoughts with ethic dilemma.
Condemned, denied by society's hand.
If but they knew!
Yet how sacrosanct and pure forever lies
A mother's love for her trusting
Daughter's innocence.

"A Mother's Love"
Composed by Anne-Lise / MP2

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        YEN LI

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the eyes of a devil
belong to an angel of sin
who can begin
to describe the care
put into baking the
cookies of hate?
each one rounded perfectly
given to rise in the oven
like a well thought plan.
conniving and deceiving
working its way into your being
like parasites feeding on your lifeblood
the angel of sin
begins to begin
his rope of evil knots
tied around each other like
worms, squirming and fighting for dirt
each one wanting more than they're worth
cookies of hate.
 
"The Cookies of Hate"
Composed by Yen Li / MP2
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
the yawn of the night
releases us from chocolate dreams
and our little feet patter down the stairs
and to the kitchen cabinet where we
quietly sneak out breakfast
and speak of things imaginary.
 
And her dreams
end, she emerges from the night
and climbs the starry stairs
to our room, lit by the candlelight of morning where we
imagine things imaginary.
and she takes a bite of my breakfast.
 
And she leaves and we
are left to discuss our dreams
where the chocolate was our breakfast
and our toys are all imaginary
where gumdrops replace the stairs.
And then we forget, for that was all last night.
 
We talk of things more real, and the imaginary
now are only dreams
of a nightly breakfast.
So we lie upon our beds and we
speak of flying people and what did it mean last night
when mother spoke of moving house? Will we have to leave our precious
gumdrop stairs?
 
So we run to give the stairs
a hug before she is only faded dreams.
We give our dear friend a farewell memoir and we
descend upon our special gumdrop bringing our breakfast
bowls to a kitchen that is white and black as night
and miss the things imaginary.
 
It is far into the future and we
wake up from the swirling night,
we forget the special dreams
of our imagined things imaginary
and our dear acquaintance, gumdrop, that was our stairs.
But now that time has passed we cannot stop our lives for breakfast.
 
Our dreams return to the magic night,
And we meet and greet our gumdrop stairs,
then eat our special breakfast to become the things imaginary.
 
"Sister's Abode"
Composed by Yen Li / MP2 on June 11th, 1997 
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
We had our unity
United for one purpose, we the people
fighting amongst ourselves. Wanting truth
and justice
and the right to money.
So much for patriotism, so much for peace.
 
The war goes on between the happy people.
The division between him and him, but you know, we do it for the money.
We're all united that way, The money gives us our unity
Everything's okay, because our country is rich, we've got justice.
You know, the justice system, it always works, because our people never
take bribes, and we all want our peace.
It's looking you in the face, open your eyes and see the truth.
 
The world is beautiful and I love my country. I'm at peace
because I'm the wealthiest man in the room, rolling in money.
I'm happy with justice
because I pay for it and I decide what justice is. They don't need to know
the truth.
All those people
thinking so highly of out so called unity.
 
"I'll give you justice
the way you want it, but first I need the money."
What happened to us all? Since when is peace
what politicians say is the truth?
They say everyone's equal, and they love the unity.
but they forget the meaning, they forget we're all people
 
We can fix it, but we're separate people
Renew our once had unity
and seek out the truth.
If only we could find the peace
within ourselves we wouldn't need the money.
Do yourself some justice.
 
Tell yourself the truth you found, the truth
you see, show yourself some justice.
Look around and see the lonely people.
donate your time, your money.
You can afford it. Find yourself some peace
of mind and take a step towards unity.
 
You'll find the truth, you know the peace.
You can't buy unity with money.
Look inside the people and learn the justice.
 
"My Country's Anthem"
Composed by Yen Li / MP2 on July 6th, 1997 
 
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Grape.
 the wet, shiny, red skin is pulled tight around, 
 around the plump, juicy meat of the fruit,
 the fruit of life, 
sweet and bitter at the same time, 
the fruit of life.
 
Strike when the time is right,
bite into the perfectly ripe meat and taste life's sweetness. 
cut into the red, red skin of love.
Begin the dream of a dream.
Close your eyes, and savor the flavor while it lasts. 
Mine eyes deceive me.
so eat your apples, 
your bananas,
passion fruit. 
but my simple grape is more complex than you can ever know. 
 
"Grape"
Composed by Yen Li / MP2
 
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your mouth is the embodiment of love
so beautiful within itself, I see
the tenderness of which you gave to me
by breaking bonds, you place yourself upon the pedestal above.
your eyes can melt me with a single glance, for
I can see the mindful mind, it is a task
to look behind the face, as perfect as a mask.
I'm always wanting more.
your speech, it makes me yearn for you, at night
I dream the dream of dancing with your voice.
Jubilation! You've returned! I only wish, for then we could rejoice
the loveliness of love, we would make our souls take flight.
Your face, your eyes, your hair, your mind are all so dear.
Live on like a flower, bloom like a rose but never wilt, for then you will
know fear.
 
"A Single Sonnet"
Composed by Yen Li / MP2 on June 19th, 1997 
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
the red red waves of passion
intermingle with the gentle slopes of a blue calm.
a bold purple line cleaves to my heart,
bringing with it the essence of the moon.
 
my liquid imagination drips through a funnel of love,
similar to my life source, flowing down my hands
and my eyes and my fingernails
then flung off into an unmoving, sparkling freeze.
 
the acidulous sting that I hear 
is a figment of my curled mind.
no outward display of that fashion is evident
but the brown knows its existence.
 
Interpret this record as you would your own.
a chain of thoughts and shoes and words.
a collection of semi-serious beliefs, is all.
However odd it seems, this doggerel is the very essence of my blood.
 
"sheeng"   
(sheeng is my english spelling of the chinese word for heart. just telling you)
Composed by Yen Li / MP2
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

sitting here,
in a chair that rolls (roll roll roll)
waiting, impatiently, for the bell to speak,
"ding! ding! freedom is yours"
writing something that might be called poetry,
something light-hearted and carefree.
a banana bagel for breakfast, and some yogort (raspberry).
as opposed to McDonald's (like the bottom of my shoe).
 
after a minute or so, the bell has yet to disclose the meaning of life.
looking up, i see we still have 10 (zehn) minutes of this horrid homeroom
existence.
i want to fly out the door, to go see my best good friend by chemicals
class.
i created and hand-crafted a sweet sweet song of a card.
how cute, our memories are so huggable.
we embrace the thoughts, and never let them go.
where would we be without nostalgia?
 
traveling back into my clay colored sky,
i encounter a cloud of pink (poof!)
and i am powdered rosy all  over.
so pretty pretty are the thoughts.
like a girl i stand, but like a wall I face the thundering force of
friendship love.
and the sponge in me absorbs it all,
who needs a man when you have F to make you happy?
 
"The Homeroom Poem"
Composed by Yen Li / MP2 
 
=============================================================================

        SHANE MARKIE

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The world itself is indelibly black. The skies are covered in India ink.
God is a black man smiling down. His teeth are the stars.
Bright and white and brittle as old chalk.

The seas are black. They boil with the blood of African slaves.
The sky is blackened when it rains. The ground is watered with Sheba's tears.
The sun becomes black as the moon swallows it. The earth is a great black obsidian heart.

The moon becomes black as the earth shadows it. Icarus burned himself black
        navigating recklessly into the furnace of the sun.

The whole of humanity is black. Sometimes outside.
Sometimes inside. Sometimes both.

The blood of a man is mostly black, and sometimes blue. A blackness only blind
        men choose to see. All prejudice in you and me. All ignorance and bigotry.

The world is painted on canvas dark-
All bruised stigmata across a black man's back.

"Black Poem, Black World"
Composed by Shane Markie on Monday February 7th, 1994

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I ain't afraid to talk about him here, that ignorant old geezer-
it's not like he can read this, anyway.

It's just that after six or seven years, I still recall the anguish on his weary face.

He was utterly unashamed that day, if not just a little bit perplexed
to ask for directions: specifically whether or not the word EAST
was spelled W-E-S-T. on a map.

I told him no, then pointed where west was out there on the Arizona interstate.
He stammered, and whispered a heartfelt Thanks,' filled up his Cadillac Seville.
In 15 minutes, he was gone.

As I ambled over to the soda machine, I got to thinking about how 
that old guy almost laughed at this whole episode.

With tears welling faintly in his lackluster eyes, we shook hands, and as he
        slowly sauntered away, the pain smoldered in his heart like waning
        ashes from a cigarette.
Hell, anyone could tell you what his silent anguish meant.

"Old Man Passing Through Prescott, Arizona"
Composed by Shane Markie on Tuesday November 15th, 1994

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I get beat down by the world each week,
and when it comes to church, I can't last long;
I've got a crucifix to carry, so
to speak, against folks who ramble on too
long.

To speak of divine providence is grand,
though some folks never fully understand
 importance of berevity at hand,
but rather boldly bellow as a goose.

Thus it is written God's thoughts are but His own,
and God Himself has promises to keep,
but I can think of nothing more ridiculous
than causing God Himself to fall asleep!

Vain pronouncements at the pulpit do not a perfect person make, 
for he who speaks long-windedly is but a hapless hypocrite.

"Sunday Sonnet"
Composed by Shane Markie on Sunday June 5th, 1994 & Monday June 6th, 1994

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Come crawl underneath my skin and hide-
come crawl inside my skull and you'll find
a place which Hell itself cannot withstand:
come crawl inside me, take my hand 
come crawl inside my mind, come crawl 
that you might somehow understand
the  turbulent thoughts reflected here
are all but warped refractions
from a distorted funhouse mirror.

"House of Mirrors"
Composed by Shane Markie on Tuesday December 20th, 1994

=============================================================================

        ATROPOS

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Feel that maybe the words are dictated
But memory is all the mortal carries
A lost soul akin to our birth rides far out and gone.
 
The intricacies of thought scan over the once present form and life
Life reigns through the sorrow that prevails
I drift, I drift among the soul of my blood
Yet closer and amidst obligation to her fragile and deteriorated memory.
 
Sunkissed and angelic
I passed her soul often with thought low in perception of ambient glance
At times, I wished for mingling of midnight dreams
To perhaps find not a mirror
But an alternate focus.
 
Recognition remained and recognition holds fast in past times and to times yet to come
History became a fast lane and all at once
Flowers scattered her willowy feet
On days like these, I cross our eternity in fond recollection.
 
So good-bye,
We will meet in the place where there is no dark
Of time, there is a key within the storehouse of knowledge that blesses her smile and 
holds it in cupped hands
Until I stir dead waters
Shall we meet in fields and forests of eternal light
The place of no darkness.
 
"For Katie"
Composed by Atropos / MP2 on June 14-15th, 1995
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
I am, as it were, here.
I sit, in a world of intoxicated illusion,
Dreaming
Dreaming of my world through cybergenic eyes
A future world, where I am floating my chains.
 
I listen, 
Daily to the cries of others pain 
And
I wonder
Why?
Why should I bother?
Why do I listen?
DO I have to?
 
Here I am, as it were
Me, myself and I
A fictitious view of who I am
Attraction through misrepresentation
I am not who, they think I maybe.
 
A textual misinterpretation
All there, but along another path
It twists and turns
It grows and grows thorns
In pain
It is not me.
 
I am not the lyrical
I am not the poetical.
 
I am the thinker,
I see your pain and use it's strength to make me strong.
I eat your sorrow and run into your mindscape
Ruling the valleys and lakes
I am your saviour
I am your redemption, believe in me
I will give you more than any other.
 
Life is endless
Life is pain
Life is the slow journey to death
And in it
I find that I am endless
I am forever and tomorrow
I am the end
I am the void of nothingness
I find in me, the death of humanity
I find the jilted generation
Scrambling for their fucking salvation.
 
What is in me?
This demon, this intoxication
Freedom to give me salvation
Rot me away and I guarantee my happiness
Throw me to the angel of death
Find me in realms of your own disbelief
I am the creator of doubt
Perhaps I am the anti-Christ himself.
 
I am much more
I am more than you thought
I breathe your uncertainty
I live your deception
Fear me
I am your death of life.
 
I take you to my next world 
In me, you will find more question for your creator
But in the bottom of my bottle
You will find my death
And happy it may be
For I
In my intellectual stimulation of intoxication
Know the wrong doing of my self-persecution
Reject the caring of that profession.
 
"The Demon"
Composed by Atropos / MP2 on August 29th, 1997
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
The unknown future rolls toward us,
We, the jilted generation, as we are told,
And we are faced,
Faced with the threat of our own genocide.
 
Not through war, not through hate,
But through fear.
 
We face the death of a salesman,
The death of a nation,
We are suffocated by greed, we are strangled by terror.
 
Everyday we set foot in our world,
Our world of 'peace', our world of 'pieces',
We have no truth and all lies,
Our world, precious to inherit,
Is choking on our vanity.
 
Mother Earth in her glory,
Rests in a watery grave,
Among the bones and wastes of yesterdays failure,
And we, as the glorious children of tomorrow,
Sit transfixed to a mindless screen,
Living our lives through fantasised reality and generations of deceit.
 
We live others lives,
Judging where we, cannot judge our own.
 
We pick like vultures at bones of the large,
We ignore, we hate, we preach and they fail,
They set an imitation of life, that all can follow,
That all can persuade and render themselves to an early death,
On and on we go,
Around and around this sickness.
 
We race to our inevitable retirement,
The truth, ignored like the stars falling,
We venture into our own bedside,
Whilst they meet at a large coffin,
Waiting for us to nail ourselves in.
 
Our indulgence, our failure,
This life, this trend,
Follow to the end,
My friends.
 
"Future"
Composed by Atropos / MP2
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
The warm breeze that comforted is no more...
 
	Welcome to the time where all is silent, where emotions die,
	Where inner fires rage and nothing calms the new tempest,
	Welcome to the land of emptiness, well not quite,
	I've been here for some time, you've been here before,
	Only dreams, dream on.
 
Sailed, drifted, but now deviated. Sadness in the dulling heart
 
	On the sea to nowhere, the rain falls, like it once did,
	Running far from further,
	Once upon that time, did two lovers entwine,
	Welcome once more to the silent voice,
	The voice that hears all, but is never heard.
 
Surrounded in isolation, falling in the circulating breeze
Desperately and harshly stares across a darkness into a darkness
	Silence...
 
On and on it goes, further away, further apart,
In nights like these, the blindness takes its toll,
The only ear is severed by unholy alliance,
Deep within ourselves,
The treachery,
The vanity,
The deception,
Why should we care?
 
The empty hours, the real belief, this sphere in all its glories holds no happiness,
The melody, the soft caress in oblivion
 
	Time runs thin, the void deepens,
	Returned to the plains of despair,
	And wallow in the ashes of dreams,
	At the end of the world, remain.
 
In times like this, to wish only to drift once again over your eyes,
You never said you'd stay until the end.
 
"Dreams"
Composed by Atropos / MP2
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
"Hold me so I don't fall..."
The rain crashing like waves against your face
And falling like small tears of words beyond.
 
Stinging and raging in the chaos
Raised my hands to feel
Before my fading eyes and on my eyes, your eyes.
 
"It's getting cold, why does it rain?"
And falling pictures of past days like the small tears of sadness 
The deepest look upon your face
With beads of running like endless valleys
In your eyes I smile on.
 
"You're so warm, I'm always cold."
Disappear the fading eyes 
Laughter breaks the silence of your tears
In my mind I soar the heights
Spinning my elevated weary head
 
"It's warmer now and safe now..."
But on and on I stare
Boats of happiness and lakes of optimism
Tranquil thought
Fall back into clear waters of clarity
And let the rain drip from my face once more.
 
"Utopia"
Composed by Atropos / MP2
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Layer upon layer of articulations
Positions confusion over the library of despair it seems
Humorous, as yesterdays gold is today's paper
Looking back over the hill
The message is not clear
Like a stranger speaking through pictures
He understands
But he dwells in the darkness
His world is turmoil
He speaks in riddles that he himself cannot solve
The pendulum still swings
From one side; the abyss of nemesis
To the other; the realm of silent content
From there
The metaphor becomes a barrier
To trap this silent stranger in his world of tempest.
 
"Riddles"
Composed by Atropos / MP2
 
=============================================================================

P       R       O       S       E

=============================================================================

        ANNE-LISE

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	The noises, I hear the noises, breaking into my consciousness with
their soft, pounding rhythm. I feel the warmth of the sun on my face, and I
try hard to open my eyes. I try so hard, so desperately. Cautiously,
anticipatorially, I half-open my eyes. They feel moist, sticky, as if glued
shut. Through the blur I make out a dark, furry form, as big as me, sleeping
contentedly. I look about me, and see only other furry forms, I am surrounded
by them, little furry bundles of all shapes and hues. What were they? Where am
I? Who am I? What am I? This stream of consciousness runs through my mind.
Then the smells. Oh, those smells! In that first indrawn breath I am aware of
hundreds of distinct odours, most of which were pungent. Foxes! My companions
were foxes! In my excitement, the hydrostatic pressure of my bladder took
control, and I urinated. Just a little.
  Then the rainbow ran through me, transfixing me in its power. My eyes flew
open in shock, my mind attempting to control the surge of information that
burst into my mind, the information that was to keep me separate from my
vulpine brothers, the legacy of my past. Past? My intelligence felt
overburdened by this revelation. Scant moments after birth, and I could
remember back... back...
   In my bewildered state, this question of so rhetorical importance evaded
me, as much as its most elusive answer. My sanity strained, yet as I hung over
the abyss of insanity, the spectrum realigned, the colours took their
preordained orders. I could see, not as a fox sees, with the world set into
its muted arrangement of greys, but as a human sees, the world awash with a
plethora of crisp colours. I whimper with excitement, and snuggle closer to my
kin. Eventually, I slept.
   I was soon noticed to be different, a troublemaker, and was often cut away
from the main group. This made me more morose and irascible, and soon I felt
unloved. Within my vulpine mind a great struggle was taking place, a strange
conflict. I knew I was a fox, yet my instincts, senses, intuition even, told
me I was something else.
   I had been sleeping alone, in the clearing, against my better judgement. I
lay there, looking up at the ebony sky, and pondered.

Back...

   My head was pushed through first, driven forward by great contractions;
muscles pushing me hard, yet my body lingered. But there were others behind
me, and they forced me through, eager in their ignorance to be clear, to face
this new wonder. I shivered, my eyes refusing to open. I felt the other bodies
around me, then a rough tongue began to lick me, cleaning away the filth. I
lay there, humble, vulnerable and scared, so scared.

Back...

   I am inside her, on top of her. She is panting, her mouth forming an 'O',
her neck craned back. We sway together in a rhythmic motion. Curiously, there
is no sound, and it is dark, but the memory is distinct.
   What am I doing to this creature? Attacking her? No... Somehow I am in a
different form, I am one of the dangerous ones, the ones that attack with
sticks of loud noise, the ones that chase us with canines and equines. I am
one of those? How? Who? What happened? These questions go unanswered, as my
vulpine mind refuses to handle the implications.
  There had to be an explanation. Of course there had. Whether logical or
insane, I would seek out its truth. This mystery forced me to hold onto my
slender grip on sanity, it anchored my soul. It gave me a new resolve, a
destiny. I had to calm down. My whimpering abated a little, and I began to
think rationally and coldly, forcing my mind to use the mental processes that
I had long ago abandoned. I began to think intelligently. I wouldn't, however,
force my mind to relinquish all of its secrets yet. It would have been an
impossible task anyway. I'd give it time, allow the varying fragments to pull
together. Gunshots! My ears perk, and I look directly at the source of the
sounds. A gun, aimed at me! I panic, and run for cover, quickly scanning for
deeper undergrowth or brush, allowing my newly acquired instincts to guide me.
I see a tree, and run past it, suddenly scrambling a hurried U-turn and
scurrying up its gently sloping trunk. The man sees me too late. Before he
can react, I am upon him, claws sinking deep into his face, blood showering
in a fine arc from ripped arteries in his neck. One claw rends his cheek,
another gouges an unprotected eyeball. The man screams, a horrible gurgling
scream, and falls to his knees, flinging me away with a wild sweep of his
hands. I land on my back, and quickly right myself. My nose telling me his
exact position, and I lunge at him again, my sharp teeth ripping out his
throat. I sit trying to calm down, and look at the corpse. My mind had melded
me into a calculatingly vicious killer, and the part of my conscience that I
had labelled 'human' was filled with revulsion. I get up and flee, faster than
I had ever imagined possible. I have to be clear of this nightmare. My little
legs pump away like piston rods. I run, and run, and run.
I spent an age, it seemed, at the post. Light shone from the top. Lamp post my
old mind readily proposed. Whatever it was called, it was a mine of coded
information. My olfactory system felt like it was on overload. I trotted
around this column, senses keen, nose twitching inquisitively. Most of the
smells I identified as canine. This was, after all, a main path through the
woodland. A few of the smells were identifiable as that detestable species,
human. How I hated myself for my link to that violent race of savages, yet how
appreciative I was for the great gift of intelligence and coloured sight that
had been bestowed upon me. It was then that I smelled Her. Previously, I had
been too young to be disturbed by any sexual connotation, but this scent was
so tangible, so recent, I couldn't control those most primal urges. I had to
find her. Her scent procured erotic imagery in my mind of the perfect vixen,
silken pelted and hazel eyed. I set off to find her, my intelligent stream of
consciousness dwelling on thoughts of attaining a soul mate, a bond, my
vulpine mind dwelling only on the natural urge to rut.
   I found her, chained. I stayed away at first, silently watching. It had
been a perilous journey, and I had nearly died. I had attempted to cross the
river. I had never incurred a river quite like it before. It was black, and
solid. I was more than halfway across when the creature roared at me. I
stopped and looked directly at it, momentarily paralysed. Its eyes glowed an
unearthly yellow, and it ran directly towards me on little round feet.
Fortunately, my instincts had taken control, and I had leapt clear. I knew
then, I would not go back unless completely necessary.
   By this time my pads were very sore, and I was panting. The vixen saw me
as I crept through the railings of her enclosure. "Who's there?" she asked in
a half-frightened, half-aggressive manner. "Please, don't be afraid. I'm a
friend." I hastily tried to reassure her, I could see she was becoming more
menacing. "What do you want here?" she demanded. She grinned at me, an evil
grin. Her teeth glistened in the sunlight. Then I saw that the grin was meant
as a threat. The excitement began to drain from me, but still every nerve in
my body was alive and dancing.
 "You." My simple reply had a dramatic effect upon her. She smiled, and
seemed to glow. She giggled and yiffed, a wonderful sound, and she leapt at
me playfully. We circled each other, tails erect, yapping joyfully. Her eyes
gleamed. We chased each other in circles, rolled and wrestled. The vixen
showed off her extreme agility. Her speed, manoeuvrability and strength
excited me. I loved it. Just as I began to feel more passionate, bells began
to ring. Immediately I crouched, sensing danger, but the vixen was unaffected,
and gave me a puzzled look. "Why are you afraid?" she asked. "Just snuggle up
and be quiet. And watch." Suddenly my ears picked up the commotion emanating
from the building on the other side of the fence. Coming here, I had paid it
scant attention, equating it to a farmyard barn, despite the multitude of
scents. Suddenly the babble exploded into a cacophony of sound as a door was
pushed open, and a stream of dangerous ones emerged. I growled low in my chest,
but the vixen nuzzled me encouragingly, warning me to be silent, and to calm
down. School, the word put itself unbidden into my mind. My intelligent half
was on overdrive, remembering old memories, and assimilating data relevant to
my new situation. My tail launched itself into its usual motorised wagging,
precipitating the arrival of a group of girls, carrying a bag of what my nose
told me was bread. "Hey!" one of them exclaimed. "There's another one!"
Her shout drew the attentions of her friends, and soon a large group of boys
and girls (The name of these creatures spewing from my intelligent half)
joined the excited child. The bigger boys pushed their way through the throng,
much to the indignation of the younger children, and they reached over to pet
me. I backed away, fearfully, whimpering a little. "Here you go." The girls
voice was so close, I whirled, ready to attack, growling. Then stopped. It was
only the little girl with the bag of bread.  The vixen (O how I love her) gave
me an admonitory glance, and sat on her hindquarters. The girl fed her a piece
of bread, wary of me. Catching on, I sat down, and gave the little girl my
most endearing look. "Shit! He's a fast learner!" one of the boys said, over
the amused babble of the other children. My attention was snatched away from
this statement as the little girl hugged my neck, giving me a piece of bread.
I was careful not to catch her fingers as I wolfed down the morsel. The vixen
didn't seem to mind me sharing her food, and a wave of joy, pride, love and
affection surged through me. The girl proffered another piece of bread to me,
but instead of taking it from her, I licked her nose, intending to taste the
saltiness of her flesh. A collective gasp immediately ensued from the
youthful onlookers, but the little girl, to her credit, didn't pull away. I
took the bread, docilely. The next few minutes were the happiest I had ever
known. The little girl, Mindy I heard her called, checked my sexual
orientation, on the prompting of one of the older boys, and I let her. The
children were content to throw me sweets and pet me. Then the adult came. One
of the children must have fetched her. She was their leader. Teacher, my mind
duly informed me. She appeared concerned for the welfare of Mindy, and gave
her a telling off or approaching me. Why? I didn't know. However, at the sight
of me meekly accepting bread from Mindy, and happily licking my vixen, she
smiled, and ordered one of the children to fetch a blue ribbon. It was then
that I had to think. I saw the red ribbon attaching the vixen's neck to the
rope that kept her from escaping the enclosure, and I was intelligent enough
to realise that the same fate awaited me. Could I accept it? Thoughts entered
my mind, I had a destiny, a quest. Yet here, I had food, I was loved, both by
my vixen and the humans. (I could no longer accept them as 'dangerous ones'.)
Should I stay or go?

"Rebirth"
Composed by Anne-Lise / MP2

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Forever Apart 


I cried from muted lips into the uncaring wind.
 "Why?" I called, confused, alone.
No answers came.
Just the noise of the elements against my skin.
Had I wronged her? Was I being punished?
O cruel is Fate! For her games I am undone.
My sweet Peri, my angel of goodness.
Have I forsaken you?

Later, returned, drained.
These four rented walls a testimony to my tears.
Resounding, empty.
The light fades once more into twilight grey,
As if the sky can feel the pain in my heart.
The skies will always be grey without her.
Across the distance I send a kiss,
And drop my waiting arms.


 			    	
	 Always in shadows, always the dust. Alone and fearing, eternally hunted.
Who would choose such a life? Very few. But a number, like myself, we never
had the choice. We were the sport, allowed to exist on the whim of our
creators, forced to be killers. There are very few old vampires left. It's
in our nature to be destructive, fearful, unable to trust even our own kind.
Most have just lost the will to continue, unable to adjust with the times.
The modern world, always changing, fluid. Yet we are changeless, almost, and
only the strongest of wills can survive in a world alien to our birth. The
others... Some have taken the long walk through dawn into sunlight, allowing
themselves to become nothing, finding solace maybe in oblivion. Myself? I
revel in this modern era. So much to see, so much to do. Night has lost its
meaning to the world, and though the pulse of the cities slow, they no
longer falter and die with the coming of darkness. The fires of wakefulness
burn as brightly now in the ebony night as they do in the cursed day. They
call to us, call to me, awakening the craving. My name is Peri, and I weep
for what I must do. 
  Sometimes, like now, indeed almost whenever I awaken, the thirst is so
strong. Too strong. I kill quickly as always. Hoping that my victim,
entranced by my hypnotic beauty with long blonde hair and flashing opaline
eyes, will not feel the pain as they die. Die... so that I may live. I do not
drain the waif I've chosen completely. I have to be careful in this age of
forensics and detective work. I lay her body on the grass of the park where
I gratefully sink down to my knees. I nick the back of my hand with my fang
teeth, so wonderfully sharp! A few droplets of my blood and the wounds are
gone, disappeared from us both. I check she is truly dead, no trace of
violent death, and nod with satisfaction. Just another runaway, expired from
hypothermia after sleeping so long under the winter stars.
  It's only then that I notice her smile, frozen in death, and I'm unable to
control the flow of tears that fall from my immortal eyes. Blood tears... a
sign that I'm well fed. If it were within the scope of my powers, I would
erect a monument to this nameless waif that would outshine the pyramids of
the pharaohs themselves. But the depression of the moment fades, and again
the ecstasy of fulfilment unfurls within me. My heart rejoices in the songs
of life, and I close my eyes, willing myself to rise. The ascent thrills me,
as it always has. I feel as though I could scream, and the heavens would
open to my defiance! I am Peri! I dare to disturb the balance of nature!

*

 "Hello darkness my old friend..."
The man sang tunelessly as he walked past where I was sitting, irritating me
with his presence. I'd wanted to be alone with my thoughts. 
 "Hello? Is there someone there...?" Damn! He's seen me. I step out from under
the shadowed embrace of the oak and allow a smile to play upon my lips,
careful not to reveal my fang teeth.
"Hi." My voice, always carrying a note of sensual indulgence and fullness... A
sensuality I'd never held when I'd been alive. I'd been a virgin when I
died, and now I cling to that virginity as though it were my remaining
virtue amongst the evils I've wrought simply to exist.
  He scrutinises me and I return his gaze, noticing that although wind-swept
and unshaven, he's still very attractive. Long, wavy black hair and hazel
eyes, with androgynous good looks that hint more than a little of oriental
origins. His mind is sluggish, and immediately I think that he's drunk. But
no... there's no hint of alcohol on his breath, and it's only then that I
realise how exhausted he really is.
 "Come." I offer. "Sit with me." I gesture casually to the low wall that
surrounds someone's garden, and he nods. I have to fight hard to stop a
blush forming as his mind notes how attractive I am. We sit and talk about
nothing for almost an hour, making each other smile and laugh. His name is
Remi, and I have to roll it around a little before I can say it with the
same inflections that he uses. He has so many questions, and although I'm
unable to answer them all, I skirt the truth enough to assuage his queries.
I can feel the love in his mind, and it's so wonderful to me, like a massage
to smooth away the pain in my life, a warmth in which I can allow myself to
bask. He tells me a little of his wanderings... Always wandering, which
explains his lean physique. He tells me of his aspirations, and they are so
small and mortal, that I cannot help but smile.
 "So what do you want from life?" He whispers, close enough to kiss. The
question catches me a little off-guard, and I ponder it for a moment.
 "I want to know that in the darkness... someone cares." I let my gaze drift
into his.
 "I care." In his mind, only truth. My smile reflects in his eyes, which
radiate compassion and love.
 "I love you."
 "Then love me, do."

*

  For some, the lives they'd led when they were still mortal would define
the immortals they would set out to become. Clinging to their archaic morals
and ignorant cultures as an anchor for their minds and souls, fighting to
comprehend their vampire nature, unwilling to kill. I was brought across in
a time of no such values, a time of great bloodshed. Yet even I have a code,
my own unwritten laws that define who I am and how I live. I've had many
teachers, immortal and otherwise. Some lived for the bloodlust, the hunt.
Others preached compassion. Yet it was the teacher I'd had when I was still
a mortal, when I was a servant girl at the great Alexandria library, who
taught me the most important rule of all: "Quas dederis solas semper habebis
opes." You only get from life for that which you give, something that many
immortals have failed to realise. It's this, I believe, that makes them
weak, only taking, only destroying. A break in Nature's circle. Yet Nature
has her own way of maintaining her balance.
  Immortality... is it gift or a curse? Maybe all gifts carry a curse. Would
Prometheus have stolen the fire from the Gods, if he'd known that he was
going to be chained to a rock and tortured for eternity? I think that he
would. There have been many times over the centuries when I've sought
freedom from my 'curse'. I've journeyed the Earth, my Gaia, searching for
the wisdom which has long since vanished from mortal grasp, hoping to
reunite my body and soul. 
  Once, in the 16th century, I visited and stayed with the healer woman
Metza in her native village of Monat, near the now-desolate Toltec capital
of Tollan. I remember thinking that here, at last, I'd found a sorceress
with the knowledge to bring back my soul once more to the land of the
living. After spending a few wearing nights with her, demonstrating my
ability to ascend as she observed and marvelled, she respected my wish to be
cured. She exacted a price from me, and it amused me greatly that all she
asked for was cacao beans. I spent that night scouring the lands, collecting
her payment, exhilarated by the thought of freedom from the darkness. The
next night, in return for the beans, she led me to a stone slab surrounded
by dense foliage. Here, she bade me lie on the slab, and I did so
hesitantly. I lay there for what seemed hours, the mist rising from the lush
vegetation and illuminated by the myriad of animal-fat candles and small
fires that Metza and her servants had placed around me. As she called out to
Quetzalcoatl to give of his healing spirit, there arose the sounds of
wailing, as of anguished widows, and for the first time in many centuries I
knew fear at the hands of the supernatural. Metza approached me, and I was
surprised to see tears of sadness in her eyes. She removed my flaxen
garments and bound my wrists and ankles to the slab with strips of cloth,
each died crimson, the colour of blood. Between my legs she placed a jade
figurine of Quetzalcoatl and chanted to the starlit night, old words, their
meanings unknown to me. The air grew cold as the night dragged onwards, and
the chanting grew ever louder, more feverish and violent.
  With her right hand, Metza picked up a shell from the floor, shaking it
over me as she chanted, and grains of maize fell softly from the shell onto
my stomach. As I lifted my head in confusion, the grains spilled off me to
each side of my body, and I noticed then that the grains on my right side
were nearly all darker than the grains on my left. As Metza saw this, she
gasped and drew a dagger out from within the folds of her clothes. The blade
glowed faintly from the firelight, and I saw that it was a sinuous blade of
the type used for sacrifice. It was with denial in my eyes, and a deep
misery in my heart that I broke from my bonds and fled, slaying only the two
men who tried to block my escape, leaving Metza alone with the knowledge of
her failure, my own emotions blunted and hollow.

*

  The night is cold, the first telltale warnings of an English winter. Idly,
I consider taking to the air, travelling southwards as though I were a bird
seeking a warmer climate. I know that in my heart I'm tempted by the
prospect, and rarely do I not give in to the smallest of whims, except when
prudence forbids. Yet the thought of leaving Remi behind anchors me here. I
tell myself it's for just a little while longer, and I realise that I'm
lying to myself, my feelings running deeper for him than I'd thought
possible. Could I persuade him to join me, become my companion? I know that
in his heart he's a wanderer like me, and that he's often moved on without
looking back... but he has work here, and mortals need currency to survive, as
surely as I need blood. Still... it won't hurt to ask. Maybe he'll even say
yes. Unusually for me, I feel no immediate hunger, and so I walk through the
park, playing as a child would, with the swings and frames, my laughter
echoing into the darkness.

*

  Pain! The radar signal of distress. It burns brightly in my mind with
flickering visions of brutal assault. It calls out to me, and I travel to
it, drawn inexorably to the danger, a moth to the candle. And then I'm
there, amidst three men attacking a teenage girl, and I allow myself to
succumb to the blood lust.
 "Get away from her!" I scream enraged. I rip the glasses from my eyes,
revealing my true vampire sight, snarling vehemently. They seem uncertain,
undecided, as if unable to understand how much of a threat a lone woman
could be to them.
  As I attack, their fear becomes so tangible as they run from me, that it
ignites my predatory instincts. Suddenly I have one of them in my grasp and
I tear at the flesh of his shoulder, ripping away a great jagged chunk of
dripping meat, the fury inside me dictating my actions. Such screams! The
predator within me rejoices! It's then, as if to deny me of my prize, that
daybreak is upon me and I flee leaving the other two to escape, the third
lining the pavement with gore. I can't stay to clear the mess... The pain! Oh
god, the pain.
  Within seconds I'm in my room, entering through the window which I slam
shut behind me. The pain's more than I can bare. Ripping away my silken
kimono, I examine myself critically, watching the burns fade and heal. So
close! My god, so close. My hand brushes slowly over the skin where the pain
still tingles like an electric current, and then there's little, less,
blessed nothingness, as my consciousness fades.

*

  I was dreaming. Yes, vampires do dream, but not in the way that mortals
do, all broken images and fantasy. We relive our memories, good or bad, the
choice is ours. Our minds slow with the fading night and we become trapped
by the sun, so we reminisce, breathing the memories with perfect vampire
clarity, as if we were still in that moment long gone. 
  In my dream, I was walking the main streets of Alexandria as I had so many
centuries ago. People were everywhere, crowding around me, their clothes a
myriad of hues and textures that brush against me as I walk. My ears are
filled with the susurration of commerce, with people buying from the many
hawkers that have laid out their wares between the impressive colonnades. I
purchase a cup of water from the fountain of Aion, the Mithraic God of time,
and luxuriate in its coolness against my tongue. 
  It was once believed that those who drank from the fountain would be
blessed with prolonged life. Such irony! I just sit and enjoy the warmth of
the sun, sipping occasionally from my cup, listening to the gossip amidst
the beauty of the city that Dinocrates had designed. Alexandria, the city of
my birth. 
  I've returned to Alexandria many times over the centuries, in a pilgrimage
that bears no heed to religion but to personal quest. I've gazed at Pharos
and wept for the magnificent lighthouse, now lost and wondered over by the
archaeologists, who would never be able to fully imagine its true majesty. I
remember its awe-inspiring splendour as it was when it was first built, and
I remember the desolate ruins I once came back to after travelling through
Asia many centuries later. I was there when they retrieved the torso of
Ptolemy's statue, and how I burst into laughter from the shadows of Quayt
Bay Fort as they stood in awe of a broken reminder to a Pharoah, who had
brought nothing but hardship and despair to his subjects. I remember the
Museion, and how I walked its hallowed corridors, believing the gentle winds
that breezed through its passageways to be the presence of the Muses
themselves. 
  I startle into wakening with tears on my cheeks and an agony akin to
heartbreak, crying from the misery of overwhelming frustration, a prisoner
of the twilight that's held dominion over me since my rebirth. I offer a
small, simple prayer to Calliope, and wait for the night to give its full
caress to the land.

*

  As darkness falls, fear grips me, and my actions of the previous night are
laid out before me as if recorded on modern video tape. How stupid I was,
attacking just before the dawn. The girl, that teenage girl. How much could
she have seen? The evidence of my attack... stupid! Memories of her scream
will haunt me forever. Too late now to make amends, quiet the observer.
Fragments of a poem I once wrote come flooding back to me. "Scream! A
scream! Nothing but the scream with its sad echoes did the silence break." I
dress quickly, putting on my favourite evening gown, complementing it with a
pearl necklace. I slip into a fur lined coat and leave the room, stepping
onto my balcony and dropping effortlessly to the ground. I walk to where I'd
killed the attacker from the previous dawn, walking as a mortal would,
vacant and self-occupied. As I walk, my mind constantly reads the thoughts
of those around me, and I smile inwardly at those that notice my looks. I'm
satisfied that nobody recognises me, and as I walk past the site of the
killing, the two inconspicuous police officers in the opposite building have
no thoughts about me other than what they'd like to do to my body. I
continue walking without the slightest pause and turn a corner, where I
allow myself to feel the warm flush of relief that I was unable to express
moments earlier. Smiling radiantly, I make my way to Remi's apartment.

*

  The sun breaks, warming the ground, and once again I'm forced to hide from
its deadly light. I'm tired, always so damn tired. Tired of the hunt, tired
of the chase. Yet that moment of the kill, when the fount gives forth its
blood. Oh, that moment! Drugs, sex, even an electric shock couldn't begin to
equal the sensations or sheer pleasure of that moment. How could something
that feels so good have its roots in evil? Oh blessed conundrum! I close my
eyes and think of Remi. His eyes, his movements, his body so perfect. I
think of his health, his vitality... blood. What would the dark gift do to
him? Would giving it prevent him ever loving me? I couldn't continue if that
were so. I need him. His warmth, his smile, his love are all that I have
left to bind my soul to mortality. What am I without him? Empty. Beautiful,
immortal, empty. A tear flows from my eye and falls to my wrist, a blood
tear. I look at it for a moment before allowing my tongue to remove its
presence.
  I'm taunted by visions of him kissing me, his teeth breaking the skin of
my neck, and I'm afraid without knowing why. Sighing, I turn over. No point
in torturing myself this way. I idly wonder what he's thinking, and allow my
mind to cast out, seek him, and listen...

  Her face, so beautiful. Her feelings such a mystery. If only I could stop
the misery reflected in her eyes. Those enigmatic smiles she gives me
betrayed by sadness in those opalescent depths. When she kissed me... What
happened? I felt her love, guilt. It was as if our souls touched. Oh Peri,
don't you know I love you? You complete me.

  Yes, Remi, I know. Forgive me. 

*

  I've had many close friends and confidantes, but never lovers. I've never
needed nor desired the caress of a man, or to be held. I've always wondered
at the grief of women who lament beside moonlit graves over their husbands,
men that I'd killed, whilst knowing full well that the men were evil and
bestowed violence upon their spouses. It always tears at me inside when I
touch on the pain in their minds, and I'm unable to help. Since my birth, I
was taught that all men are shallow, seeking female companionship for one
main end only. But Remi... I know he seeks nothing from me but my smile and
laughter. Can he really be so unique? With the issue still unresolved in my
mind, I let my thoughts slow and sink into welcome dreams.

*

  I awaken, and immediately sense that I'm not alone, but as I'm unable to
detect conscious thought, I know that I'm in the presence of another
immortal. I rise swiftly, alertly.
 "Do you normally enter a lady's room without permission?" I ask, and smile
as I recognise the laughter that ripples from the vampire sitting in my
comfiest chair. I know now that I'm safe, Charles is my friend.
 "It really has been so long, my dear, I thought I'd see how you were." His
baritone English accent hints a little of Remi, and makes me smile.
 "How thoughtful. Where did you go after Paris?"
 "Well, at first I drifted south into Spain. Terribly dull those Spaniards,
but their wine is..." Charles' voice drifts off as I remove the night clothes
I'd slept in.
 "Oh, please, don't mind me." I say, undressing, smiling to myself at
Charles' discomfiture. I look through my collection for something warm yet
revealing, gazing thoughtfully at my cashmere.
 "Their wine is so very... sublime."
 "Since when have you started drinking wine, Charles?" I ask, looking over
my shoulder playfully, fully aware of the hungry smile that he's attempting
to hide as he looks at my bared skin. I know full well that Charles is too
much the gentleman to talk directly of blood.
 "Oh really Peri, do you have to play your little games with me?"
 "You should learn to loosen up a little, Charles."
 "I'm sorry my dear. I guess your beauty just... has me distracted."
 "Flattery Charles? You have changed." I turn to him, exposing my body to
him completely. "But I'm afraid I'm spoken for."
 "Really? Then I'm not the only one to have changed. Is that a blush? I
don't think I've ever seen you..."
 "I've never been this well fed before, Charles. It's nothing." I dress
quickly, fully aware of the self-satisfied smile I know Charles must be
giving me behind my back, and realising that I don't care.
 "Well my dear, do you fancy a Chinese tonight?"
 "Oh Charles. Your humour never changes." He laughs, and I laugh with him,
taking his hand.

*

  Together we hunt, enjoying each other's company, and I'm able to relax my
senses a little.
 "About bloody time too. I thought you were going to be the ice maiden all
night." I aim a little kick at him, which he easily avoids, so instead I
blow him a kiss which brings back his smile.
 "Careful Peri, I may think you mean it." I laugh.
 "I've already told you, I'm spoken for."
 "Hmm... So what's she like?"
 "Excuse me?" I stop in my tracks, startled slightly.
 "Well, you've never shown any interest in men before." His laugh ripples
out, completely, fully, and I blush furiously, my cheeks suffused with the
blood of the kill.
 "His name is Remi. He's a wanderer." Charles scrutinises me.
 "He's not an immortal, is he?" Accusation, disbelief in his tone.
 "No Charles."
 "You know the rules, my dear." I feel the anger pushing at me, the fury
pounding at the walls of my heart.
 "Whose rules, Charles? Yours? Theirs?" Charles closes his eyes.
 "How many years until he's gone, Peri? How many small, mortal years until
you can't even bear to look upon his face, remembering the man you met? How
long until you're unable to bear the changes any longer, and you're tempted
to bring him across against his will?"
 "That choice is mine, Charles." I let my true vampire sight flash
momentarily, opaline fading to violet.
 "Yes, yes of course. Please, don't let your anger lie with me, my dear. I
have your best interests at heart."
 "You only have your own interests at heart, Charles. It's your most
redeeming feature." He sighs.
 "I won't say any more on the subject. Come, how long has it been since you
danced in the moonlight?" I close my eyes, and allow my anger to still. My
smile returns, and I see the welcome relief on Charles' face.
 "Too long, my friend. Too long."

*

  I awake alone, and I'm glad for it. My emotions are still aswirl in my
mind. I think fondly of the previous night, dancing inside the deserted
bandstand, pirouetting to music that exists solely in our hearts and minds.
I step before the mirror and peer at myself, lifting my arms gracefully.
Like most vampires, it amuses me of the myths that have grown around us, the
half-truths and distortions, lies and fallacy. I have nothing to fear from a
visitor in the night, wielding a stake for my heart. The notion is so
amusing! Yes, we can be killed, all creatures can. Sunlight burns us, and we
need blood to survive, although it seems that we need less as the years
pass. The longest I've gone without was for three years. It was during my
lowest point, as depression pursued me wherever I tried to find solace. The
year was 1939, and the world was at war as never before. No longer were wars
fought honourably, with people attacking in the dawn light wielding swords
and axes. Killing was much more... civilised. You didn't even have to see the
person you killed. Generals hid in concrete bunkers, sometimes a whole
country away from where innocent blood was spilled. Women and children, gold
and silver, these were no longer the prize. I remember the old hymn, "Take
not our anger from us, take away our pride." Never were these words more
prophetic as then. As millions died throughout the world, I shut my mind to
the screams and cries, my vampire senses buffeted by the agony. I sought
refuge in the earth, burrowing deep, not to return until it was nearly over.

*

  I awaken languorously and set out to seek Remi. I've resolved to tell him
the truth, all of it. I walk in the mortal fashion to his apartment, a trait
I seem to be adhering to more and more of late. It gives me time to think,
and plan what I'm going to say. I'm not wearing makeup, I have no need of it
tonight. My skin is flushed from the feedings of the previous nights, and so
I have no need for now to pigment my skin. 
  Suddenly, I'm there, and although my thoughts are still a chaos in my
mind, I let my doubts falter within. I'm with Remi, I'm safe.
 "I missed you."
 "Missed you too, night child." My eyes widen.
 "Why do you call me that?" Does he know? How?
 "Well... It seems I only ever get to see you in the dark." I smile.
 "I like the dark. It comforts me." He laughs.
 "Aren't you scared of the vampires?" He stops laughing as he sees the look
in my eyes. "What's wrong?"
 "It's a long story, and you deserve to know. All I ask is that you don't
hate me after I tell you." His eyebrows furrow with consternation and worry.
 "I could never hate you. I love you." I close my eyes. Please, let it be
enough.
 "Anyway..." He adds, "Life's too short." 

*

  I'm lying beside him, on his bed. His arm is wonderfully warm against my
skin. What am I doing here? I'm a stranger in a strange land. I look at the
digital clock atop the small set of drawers, and relax as I realise I have
another few hours still before the dawn. But even so, I should get up and
move away to the safety of my own rooms, my bastion against the light. I
gently remove his arm from around me, and let myself ascend, floating inches
above the bed itself. I slowly rise towards the ceiling, the sheets smoothly
drifting off me and falling back to the bed. I land beside him, lithely, and
kiss his sleeping cheek, fully aware of the blood coursing through his veins
only an infinitesimal distance from my fang teeth. I close my eyes, and let
myself drift backwards, away from him. My heart breaking, I turn and leave,
guilt pervading my every thought. 

*

  I don't believe in angels. I guess I have to see something to believe in
it. I do believe in goodness though, and in giving. Religion amuses me, with
its chaotic symbolism which all ends up saying, "Be good." I don't think of
myself as evil, although I know of many in this modern age who would be
inclined to disagree. I've seen empires rise and fall, cultures flourish and
submerge, and still I survive. Maybe I do need a companion, someone to share
myself with, someone who can impress on me new ideals and spirit, change the
changeless. 
  As the sun rises, I close my eyes and think of the last time I had a
mortal companion. It was during the early 1920s when I met her. She was a
village girl of Mugla in Turkey, south-east of Pamukkale. Her name was Sarap,
which means Mirage. How she laughed when I told her my name, which I learned
that in the shift of language meant to her 'beautiful nymph'. She came to
believe that I was in some way sensitive to the light through an illness,
and even changed her lifestyle to match mine, sleeping in the daytime and
gathering fruit or tending to the goats at night. Life was idyllic for a
while, and I knew great happiness being with her. Eventually though, as the
people in the local villages grew ever more worried over the plague that was
taking their offspring and animals, I knew I had to leave. I left her as she
slept, stealing quietly into the night. She'd been awake during the day
shopping in the village seven miles away, and I remember looking at her face
for the last time as she slept, her features so innocent and untroubled. I
left her with tears in my eyes, and an ache in my heart that distance and
time has never fully healed.
 
*

  I take to the air, wraithlike, and set out southwards, travelling as swift
as I'm able. I come to rest in the city of Lichfield and walk the few
streets to the Cathedral. It's always been somewhere for me to return to
when my spirits are low, somewhere changeless. I discovered it in the 18th
century and was struck by its beauty. Streetlights and spotlights illuminate
the frontage now, too bright for my sensitive eyes, but the rear is always
in shadows. Mowed lawns that you can sit on, warm stone to lean against, and
high windows through which I can enter and seek refuge within the smallest
of chapels. Whenever I need to be alone and think, it's to here that I try
and return, and I've never needed the solace of the cathedral as much as
now. I enter the Head Chapel, lighting a candle. I have no need for its
light or warmth, but the company of such a little flame is soothing to me. I
kneel, praying to my Muse, my Calliope.
  There's an ancient Chinese legend about two tigers, one red, one blue. The
blue tiger is always in search of the red tiger, his spiritual counterpart.
Sometimes they're drawn together by passion, other times not, but Fate will
always see to it that they'll find each other in the end. Many cultures
preach the virtue of soulmates, yet very few individuals truly believe in
its existence. I never did... until now. I extinguish the candle and leave the
chapel, smiling.

*

 "Are you okay? Are you ill? Can you get ill?" Remi's eyes are fixed on my
own, concern etched in his handsome features as blood tears trickle down my
cheeks.
 "No... I'm not ill. You could just say I have a fracture in my soul."
 "Oh, come here." I let his arms enclose me, and we kiss, a simple mortal kiss.
 "Tell me," he asks, "do you kill those you find evil, or do you kill
indiscriminately?"
 "Always indiscriminately. Ultimately, there's no justice in this world.
Even the most despised of enemies are a universe of beliefs and
perceptions." The old clich, but still true.
 "What about the people who can influence the future? What if you could make
an impact on the world?" 
 "Yes, what if I was to make an... impact... on the world, what then?"
 "Ah... I see. I'm sorry, but you have to realise, this is all so new to me."
 "It's okay. It's something that you never get used to, even after
centuries." Remi's eyes widen.
 "Centuries!" I laugh at his expression, slightly high with the empathy of
his shock.
 "Does it matter so much to you that I'm older than you are?" 
 "No, not at all. You intrigue me. Can you... show me your world?" My turn to
be shocked.
 "There's only one way to experience my world, and there's no turning back"
He looks at me for a few moments more. 
 "If it means that I can be with you always, then I'd never wish to turn
back." My heart freezes.
 "You have no idea of what you're asking! It's not something for which you
would wish." Suddenly I realise that I'm no longer able to read his
emotions, which only happens when my own emotions overwhelm me so much, that
I'm unable to concentrate fully. I take a deep breath. "This isn't something
you decide on a whim. We must both think this through." 
  Inwardly I curse myself for my deceit. I already know my heart. If he asks
for the dark gift, after thinking of it properly, how could I deny it him? I
will give of myself, my virgin blood, my all, and I will cry real tears of
grief for his lost mortality.

*

  I've never felt this alone. Never. What if his reasoning tells him to
leave me, just walk away from me? I wouldn't blame him, nor would I seek him
out. The decision is no longer in my hands, and in a strange way this
comforts me. I close my eyes and try to think of nothing, nothing at all,
but still my memories flood me. I shake my head softly, my last physical act
before I have no more strength left to move.

*

 "So... what happens now?" His stance is brave, yet I'm able to see the
nervousness exposed by thousands of minute signals through his facade.
 "So brave." I murmur, trying in vain to make him smile, to relax just a
 
To Be Continued...

"Souldeath: The Vampire Peri"
Composed by Anne-Lise / MP2

=============================================================================

        ATROPOS

_-_=_-_=_-_=_-_=_-_=_-_=_-_=_-_=_-_=_-_=_-_=_-_=_-_=_-_=_-_=_-_=_-_=_-_=_-_=_

Sunday 21st January 1996
I never thought it would happen to me. I always thought I was 
too strong, I thought I could handle it.
Addiction
Addiction to alcohol. 
Even now, I think that maybe I've been too hasty. 
Maybe I don't have a problem, but inside, I know.
I know there's a problem.
I never wanted to be different, I still don't. It seems the 
one thing that unifies us all is alcohol. Things will change. 
I'm afraid. I fear that I'm alone, even though everyone is behind me. 
Everyone wants me to succeed.
Inside there's a strange feeling of panic.
Its difficult to imagine the change, my problem is I try to 
think ahead(too far?). I know I should take each day as it comes. 
What will it mean? My life and alcohol, my life and addiction. 
What will become of me?
It's too late to return. Everybody knows, everybody wants me to succeed.
I must. Will it laugh forever....laugh?...LAST forever.
I'm 20 now, nearly 21. Why so young? Why me? It is a frustration. 
I know that I drink for the wrong reasons, but doesn't everyone? 
There are people out there, that I know who are drinking for the same reasons, 
but they don't proclaim to have a problem. 
So maybe I don't.
No, I do.
Inside I know, there is a problem, if I feel that and I 
realise that it is becoming an addiction, or already is, then I 
must be right. Is this a mountain out of a molehill? I wish I knew.
Shit, why can't I be normal? Just like every other fucked up 
individual who has their normal amount of stupid problems, but 
minor ones, ones that don't mean you have to change your life to solve them.
Well, I have Emily. She's been fantastic so far, I love her so 
much and I'll need her like no other, but I feel so guilty laying all this on her. 
Also though, because I love her so much, I don't want to let her down....
So here I go, its dark on this path and I don't know the way, 
but some people do, so I need them. See you on the other side. 

II.
So its true then.
The beast is within me. 
Like they said, "A zoo in a cage, that wants to be free." 
Yea, I wanna be free. I wanna be myself. I feel that I'm part of 
this long walk that becomes a run, a race and its eating away at my soul.
I run from the darkness, following the sunset, but there are 
times when it catches me, consumes me and I can't see out. I 
don't want to drag people into that abyss, but she isn't what I 
need to recuperate and this isn't the verse I wish to record.
How does it do that? I fear the phone, the darkness is in it, 
it destroys us and I hate it for that. I cannot climb the smooth 
walls of Emily's mind. She will not throw me the lifeline. Am I 
the person I thought I was? Surely I am. The old saying;
"Get me out of this rock n' roll hell."
Sounds almost funny, I see it though, but where to run? Where 
the fucking hell? I drag her down, I am not the man. High price 
to pay for the angel with its demon soul eating and devouring. 
People have to know, but who? The walls of chaos surround. 
Do people know what its like; the addiction?
I want more, I want that drink, oh I want that drink. I listen 
to sounds which metamorphoses into the struggle. As I once used 
to say before;
"Struggling in the arms of Nemesis."
How do I fight this alone? They all say that I don't need to 
be alone, they know nothing, if I rely, then I lose, but if I am 
alone, I lose.
I don't want to be eternally depressed. All the drink does is 
break me and puts me in the cage. How will she ever throw me that 
life-line of hers if I'm going down in flames? Too many questions 
and I cannot seem to find the answers.
I can feel it right now, consuming, creeping death. 
LET ME GO. I must not let you win.
"Things are not all that out of control."
Yes, the word: "Control", that's what he said; "Control", my element. 
The conscious drunk, wide awake in intoxication.

III.
So, a day further and I'm making it, I can reach the 
light, but the demon is still there.
The demon lives in the drink, he's alive, but for many he's (or rather it's) not there, 
its in literature, its fiction. You have to SEE the demon and oh how he has sat opposite me, 
grinning through rotting corpse, through that half bottle of Vodka and 
he's saying "Yes, yes, I can show you the way." 
You follow, you follow like a child to sweets and yes, he gives you a good time, 
but he is the DEMON and he wants your soul, he wants your deception, 
your hate, your lack of faith and he gives you his weakness and soon you will
        fall to your knees as I have done.
So now? The demon is not in wrath, he watches me, still 
smiling, still saying "You lose." I want to believe him, I want 
to run to him and embrace my death, an eternal death. He has 
power and it takes PURITY and STRENGTH to combat his wrestle, 
those arms around the neck, they're so very tight, the grip is still firm.
Tonight, I play at the gates of Nemesis, I play and dance at 
the beasts mouth. Do I do it to annoy him or tempt me?
I wish I knew.
Lucretia, my reflection.
"Two worlds and in-between."

I will never know peace.
My conscious would never allow it.
I try to bring peace so much that it destroys my own peace. Soon, 
I will not be the peace-maker, but....what?
I see a wording:-
"Drink from me and live forever."
That's what he says, but he's a liar. I won't let him fucking win.
I shall be me, for me.
All they must do is guide and watch from mountain tops as I walk the valley of darkness. 
The first journey is almost won....

IV.
14 weeks....its a long time, it seems like so long and how the 
words of before seem almost trivial...but haste, they remind me of the demon...
I play again with the idea that the demon is smaller and weaker, but now I realise he is not.
Alcohol is the route of all evil....not money, not power, 
it is alcohol, people die, they lie, they corrupt, they betray...
they are addicted....
I have become apart
I have become alien to the original me......
I wish I could go back now...I still want to and inside I believe 
I might retain some form of control....I'm still afraid....so far, 
weeks of fucking coke, orange juice, lemonade and people 
saying 'congratulations', words of comfort and words of sorrow.
Give me a fucking break...
I am now 21 and to quote "I ain't goin' out like that..."
Now I have the so-called comfort of those looking out for me, 
those that will pull tightly on the choke-chain when they think 
the time is right...they are the gods? I believe that I may be 
mine own, if I can hold the demon away, I can certainly hold him 
in hated embrace and pull his own noose tighter when I want to. I 
resent peoples developed attitude.

Certain people I know...they want me to remain holding me in the cage...
the irony is that through seeking my own freedom I have encased myself again
        and there are those that wish me to remain there....I know, they love
        me, they don't want me to return to the original state
but
I think
I could..
it is unfair of them to burn me for my own wishes...
nobody knows what is best for me...

"Arms of Nemesis"
Composed by Atropos / MP2

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