BelovedWriter

Raising a hand to touch your face A whisper touch of lightest grace Words unspoken this silent creed Her eyes and touch tell you all you need A blink of understanding in her gaze Which sets your very blood ablaze Turning and slinking softly away Her invitation she has no need to say With a light responding touch of hand She knows that you completely understand You set off together in your usual way Bound tighter than words can portray

I’ll be alright Just leave me be, for tonight A few moments of silence, is all I need To finally allow myself to be freed Just give me a chance Just one, to learn this brand new dance Let me sing you a song A song, which will prove the rumors wrong I may feel low But I promise that I will wake tomorrow It will be over soon Just give me some time, under the moon Just one gust of wind And just a little bit of time to sing I’ll be alright Just leave me be, for tonight

 The priests had said prayer would save his mother, so Osar prayed for a year and a day. Dawn til dusk, beseeching shadow and sunlight. Oft late past the darkening hour he’d bowed his head and grovelled, bargained, begged. He had devoted himself to Dionas the Golden God. But Dionas hadn’t heard the prayers, or worse, refused to answer them. Even the gods couldn’t cure cancer. Osar wrenched another weed from the overturned earth. And for all of his devotion what did he have to show for it? A grave dug by his own hands and a dead woman to fill it. The Golden God might have been the city’s patron and its father, but O