A late dream,
Don’t I know what to expect!
The storm must have woken me,
And you, dear angel,
Are still fast asleep…
Yet I know: the Enemy and his minions strike before dawn,
Hiding their hideous shapes
Behind the windows’ frames…
I wrap myself in your gown,
And swear at them.
Picture: from this fantastic site: http://darkdreams.centerblog.net/1396-les-nagas
The place should be familiar, but without him, it is as strange as her solitude. She looks at the rugged landscape, the desolate ruins, and the massive tower, the alien sentinel. Alone, she would now face the Enemy, in her hands his swords, in her heart his courage, and her eternal love for him. How is it, she thought, that I am immortal and he was not? And she knows the answer: he was human, and she no longer is.
Thin wrists, smile of a medieval Virgin,