Quick poem.

[sparklebutch]

In dreams she spoke to me, she said,
Mortal, kneel upon the bed;
Glory to the Goddess King.
I did as asked. I cannot win.

I suffer, shudder through the night,
This lost cause battle, defeated fight,
The heat of her cold eyes on me.
These vicious eyes I cannot see.

I kneel and wait for her, in dreams,
In quiet nights, familiar themes;
This Goddess whom I cannot see,
She's just beyond, she'll come one day, she'll come some day, she'll come to me.

Comments

[caiusmajor.livejournal.com]

Wow! Very nice. Beautiful even without the context in tags making it an Illyria poem, and appropriate for her, too.

[sparklebutch.livejournal.com]

Thank you very much.
Sometimes I think in poetry.