Permafrost Sovereign.

       Every year, since the first blanket of snow covers the Earth, the Northern Lands find their way back to the primordial Darkness. A Darkness that makes the wicked shiver. For those who are not from there believe there is although a spot of Light that can shed the venom away, so every year, fools find themselves on a quest they think can conquer. The Natives know how it goes. It is the place that even if it shines the brightest eats you whole, with no hope of return. You can see some of them trying to warn the adventurers of what lies ahead, but they never listen. They are drown to that place. The lake calls to them. Animals stay away a radius of two yards and they still don’t think twice. Once they arrive at the shore they can see that the frozen lake it is unlike any other lake in that stage. The color is a vibrant green, resembling the ocean in the tropical part of the world. Travelers untutored venture first to see if the surface is safe to walk on, when certain, they go to the middle of the frozen space. They are mesmerized by the fact that even if it is solid ice beneath them, they can clearly see feet under. They see fish more colorful than the rainbows after a savage summer storm, they see more life in the plants underneath them than they notice in a newborn’s eyes. They spot creatures that belong thousands of miles away from where they are.
       When amazed to the core of their soul, it is when they realize the mistake that was made, when they believe every story told, when they wish they turned back at the first warning received weeks ago. The coldest shivers run down their spines, their limbs transfix, their faces contort in grotesque expressions and a feeling of fear weighing more than five stallions galloping over them absorbs their presence. That is when they see it. Her… lying dead under the pellicle of ice. The most beautiful woman on the face of the planet. A white figure in a lake of envious tears. Her hair more white than an archangel’s wings. Her skin so pale that it has no contrast to the ice surrounding the water area. Her long eyelashes are decorated with crystals of winter drops. Her full lips have a look so alive even if their shade resembles a morbid cadaver. Her high cheeks that could have the most beautiful rose touches have the image of ashes stamped on them. She is so fragile that they never saw accents so small on a grown woman. They can see her sumptuous feminine attire through her over worn sheer gown. They look at her in pain. In fear. In love. In desire. In lust.
       As they feel their own pain, they kneel on the surface of the lake trying to be closer to the fair maiden under them. Each and everyone of them tries to kiss the ice in the spot her lips are, believing it is some kind of fairy tale. But she opens her eyes. Bright and lively big eyes stare back at them. A grey so clear, almost white pierces their being. As amazed as they are by the way they look, the mare humans freeze from the evil that flows through those eyes. The travelers back away as the ice beneath starts to melt so she can step in the world of living. Her once mauve lips are now of a vivid scarlet. Her hair looks like it didn’t touch water in days. Her skin shed its cadaverous shade to look like milk. As they are paralyzed by fear she wickedly smiles with a mouth damned to make you sin. She gets as close as physically possible to them, to smell them, to hear their heartbeat, to touch their cold skin, to search for the life in their eyes that she eventually is going to take.
        People she took years ago are still alive in her deep cold kingdom, but the life of theirs left long ago. It didn’t matter if it was man, woman or child. They were hers now. So was this one. She took him by the hand, leading back to the hole she crawled out of and dragged by a notorious force, he followed. As they descended in the cold abyss the frozen film sealed them under as nothing ever touched the place.
        Therefore She is now waiting for the next victim to prey on. One more soul… and her frigid reign will  collapse Above.




“The path to Hell is always paved with good intentions”.

He knew that. He learned it the hard way. If they only knew… they in fact surfaced his way back home. They didn’t know of the creature lurking inside of him. He knew he didn’t belong, but where on Earth he would go? Used, mocked and ashamed for mistakes he did not commit. The ones he did… were hunting him and always pinching him in the back of his head. He grew up wandering and wondering. All the women who passed by his bed never made him feel more than carnal pleasure. All the men who drank with never fulfilled more than his social needs. His mother used to tell him that there is something in store for everyone and that he is no exception… He smiled thinking it was the only time his mother was wrong.

He walked the streets imaging how it would have been if he lived in another era… Back in the days when there was no artificial mechanisms, when it became dark along with the nightfall. He wanted to believe in possibilities. If it was to meet someone, he wished that person would be as misguided as he was. He loved to walk the path of Ancestry. He wanted more than this world has to give. He liked to think that the Universe made a mistake, that he was born to late. Little did he knew he lived a thousand lives before this one. Cursed to roam forever in confusion in every life that he’d receive. cursed to search for his stone. The Stone that would give him meaning and purpose.

Along the axis of time he searched and searched. For years, centuries and epochs he struggled to find Something. The Something waited for entire eras for him to come back. His Embla waited for so long… on the other side. He was to return Home soon.

When he will be ready, he will go back to his life, to his Stone and to himself. Until then, the ride is full of soul. The stories that he’ll tell to his kin. The things he learned in order to be complete. What took her seven lifetimes to see, took him hundreds more to believe. But as he has few things he likes in this life…

The Show Must Go On. 


Ocean Soul.

I want to fade… I want for the sea to take me. I want to let the wind carry me to unseen places on the other side of the world. I want a leaf to transcend me into other realms. I want to find something else. I need to discover another side. The story ain’t over, yet closure I want. But it ain’t in a world of perish. A portal to another dimension. A portal to a life of wisdom. A door to other horizons. Wide open windows to flaming souls – is what I seek. Ephemeral ways are no longer my path. All the energies passing by… they are whispering in glasses. Purple wine overflows golden bottles. It fogs the vision of white powder. Green liquor melts stone goblets. Rain embracing blue flames. To be taken where birds are walking under flying tigers and next to swimming hyenas… that is where lost images might be and craved words might be seen. It seems like yesterday in the next season. The cold summer in the heated winter. Flowers blooming in the time of Autumn. And leaves dying in the Spring Equinox. The imprisoned Death in the suffocating arms of life. Just like a Lover dying for Love… a heart without cries but full of ideas. A brain without rationalism but full of emotions. What they seek inside, I find everywhere but around me. Alive in illusions and dead in the right hemisphere. I seem to seek the seek. I seem to forget the remembrance. I apparently crave the actions of a fervor. I crave the attention of life. A proof needed to deny oblivion. I dream about souls turned into pages, only to be able to collect them into a book. Just like a tree collecting leaves.Mythological dreams return in time to give back their own clarity. The creatures coming back only to prove themselves still capable of breathing again. A treasure captured in a royal mind, like a  warrior kept under a flaming cage.


Lost in space.

The afternoon sun of a spring day is following her down the street. She walks in a calm pace enjoying the fact that she can wear her leather jacket and sunglasses again. Before she lights a cigarette while walking, she takes a deep breath to feel a light scent of rebirth in nature; only that the beautiful medieval city she lives in, doesn’t smell like that at all… it smells like Death. The smell of rotting bodies is invading her lungs now. Her face frowns as her skin trembles and for a moment her mind is taken far away, in heavier times. She tries to banish the morbid thoughts from her head, fixes her aviator sunglasses and takes a cigarette out of her pocket. She lights the Lucky Strike with her silver lighter and she continues to walk, but she is walking now as doesn’t want to disturb anything else…

She is now on her way back home. It is warm outside and she doesn’t feel comfortable with it. “I have to  wash the dishes, to clean my desk, to do laundry and write the presentation for tomorrow… Fuck!”, her thoughts are filled up with what she has to do when she gets to the dorms. These chores are not the only things running through her mind now… she has the feeling someone, something is following her. It is a creepy feeling that now surrounds her like an aura. She looks around and behind but nothing and no one is there since it isn’t such a populated shortcut in the old city.

The raven colored haired girl changes the song to blast in her earbuds with something that might be cheering her up. Surprisingly she chooses a song that she didn’t listen since the tenth grade. She remembers how she used to enjoy looking at people as they walked, she liked to observe them, to analyze them. She takes the shot to do it again as she is now on the main street and people are walking right by her. The girl sees indifferent faces, sad faces, preoccupied faces, worried faces, mad faces, insane faces, dreamy, absent but just like before only one or two faces smiling. the young woman wonders if the others can smell the macabre scent that persisted in the air; probably not. It becomes more and more annoying with every step as the gross smell now starts to sting her nostrils. She focuses on the lyrics of the song that probably is contributing to her hearing destruction and smiles at everything it reminds her of… She really is questioning everything these days.

The girl is now in the front of her dorm building and she chooses to stay only to flirt with the end of her days once again. As she lights another cigarette she takes a deep breath and is surprised by the warm smell replaced the ugly one. It smells like warm, leaves and wind. She can now shake now all the nasty thoughts out of her head; she takes the last drags and reviews once more her tasks and… “Shit… let’s get it over with.”


Ever Dream.

               ‘I look at her talking and… her face, her skin starts to crack. Before I knew it she shatters into million pieces. What was that… what was, is this? How… how do I go back? Where do I go back? My room and him… Who’s him? I start to remember what induced me into this lethargy. The blood. Our hands. I close my eyes and try to focus on my room. It feels like one of those dreams when you are falling but now, instead of skyscrapers, I am surrounded by flames. Flames that do not burn, but cut my skin. I hit the ground.’

The only thing I hear screaming in the back of my head is something that I say for years now… “Open your eyes. Close your heart.” I hear it louder and louder; I am afraid to open my eyes. I am afraid of where I may find myself. How long I stayed as a breathing cadaver?! What just happened? All the things I saw. All the things I remembered. All my life… all of the lives I lived. I feel my entire body numb. I feel the surface of my skin ice cold. My palm is pumping pain. My lungs are screaming for the forest scent. My mind is putting puzzle pieces where was void. My throat is burning. My stomach feels the puns of a dagger over and over again. I want to open my eyes but why can’t I let them open… I need strength to do that; a lot actually… Something soft caresses my frozen face. It feels like fur and it’s warm. The familiar smell of cigarettes is slowly making place in my nose. I have to do this. I have to open my eyes. “Oh, on Seven Hells!”.

I can see now the so familiar painted ceiling of my room.



She Wolf.

    So well known for her cruelty.

So loved for all her atrocities.

So blamed for all her doings.

So admired for her wars.

So hated for her laws.

So denied for her morals.

So feared for all her tortures.

So exiled for the good inside her.

So misunderstood for all her crimes.

So honored for the lives she took.

So sad for the lack of light in her soul.

So proud for the darkness inside her mind.

So enraged for the army she controlled.

So tired for the Crown upon her head.

So sinful for the roses in her gardens.

So tragic for the men in her chambers.

So innocent for the pages in her bedroom.

So terrifying for the souls at her gates.

So kind for the animals in her forests.

So little for the lover in her bed.

So much more for the lust in her.

So tormented for her Throne.

So black for her heart.

So red for the tears she screamed.

So gore for her victims.

So envied by the women who wished were her.

So cold for the Summer’s Day.

So outside for the times she lives in.

So focused on her duty.