There she sits at the place of fire
Watching the flames leaping higher and higher
The racing flames let her eyes sparkle green
A cold and cruel beauty never before seen
The face although formed of flesh and bone
Is set and stern like a mask of stone
Yet does in this sight no cruelty appear
causing rather pity than fear
Brown hair is framing this ivory face
Embroidering it like a beautiful lace
Opposite her a strange wanderer sits
Tall but slender with eyes catlike slit
He, too, is quiet, not moving at all
Watching the fire's rise and fall
His face has features alien and strange
Fine but not human with the light they change
Both were fearless warriors once
Clad in armour both steel and bronze
Many a fight in their lives they have seen
Opposing evil wherever they have been
But even they were defeated one day
When an evil sorcerer crossed their way
He damned them to live forever in trance
To witness forever the same fires dance
[...]
You add some hot chocolate, some rain falling heavily outside, good music (while you seat confortably numb) and a good talk, that lasts until the sunrise, and you have a night to remember...
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1 comment:
That wouldn´t be almost perfect. It would be the perfection it self.
Sweet mother of Jesus, how can this be? You just described my perfect night. It´s almost scary...
But I guess there must be lots of girls thinking exactly the same.
Loved the poem. It´s hard to be not fascinated.
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