Scream Against the Violence
By: Loralei Fairhill
Part: 1/1
Rated: PG-13
Genre: poetic reflection piece
Notes: Don't ask where this came from. I was talking to Antigone,
despairing that I was going to have to dye my hair pink because
I had no Mamo-day story, and this popped up. I thought Genso was
on hiatus, but . . . maybe not? Enjoy.
EMAIL: Loralei1300@aol.com
Oh, and if you don't like the way I portrayed the characters, tough.
I seriously don't want to hear about it. That's your problem, not
mine. ^_~ (READ: This is only for those of you who desire to FLAME.
Others, just read and . . . um . . . I hope you like! ^_^)
"akairo"
i see red red red where is my white poem i ask into the silent
unfortunate darkness all i see is red red red obscuring my vision
and i want clarity the emotions scattered across your twisted visage
should be so easy to hide away from the light no silver lining able
to be conjured from here no thought no pain no love just red red
red as if the apocalypse had already come to find me and i failed
to tell you before the end kami-sama if that were to happen it's 8
am again shimmering heat rising from the sidewalk up to my apartment
window coloring my strawberry curtains reflecting droplets into the
furnace air of my room the bottom of my soul rises in my throat i
want to vomit it up it's killing me slowly maybe if the sun-beaten
atmosphere were to swallow it down i'd find peace red red red it's
beating through my brain again all because of you cringing curling
back to fetal position i hold at bay the engulfing fear that this
crimson causes life blood flows like a river pushing skin back
drowning eyes in painful liquid dreams turn black hazy clouds descend
into the morning why did i wake up so early from the nightmares of
red red red nothing to be afraid of i can't see the future yet the
feeling of certainty remains these are the truths undeniably so maybe
my vision isn't obscured but i cry out into the imaginary jungle
night still i want my white poem never more to see red red red
The vision. There it goes again, pummeling my brain with
darkness, reeking with evil. How can I never escape it? I feel my
drowning soul voicelessly scream and my ears shirk at the sound.
Every night the same pain, every night the same dreams.
The curse continues. She told me, "I would follow you to the
grave and back. I will never leave you alone if you break my heart.
Your sanity will shrivel and your body will follow mine into the
cold, hard-packed Earth if you betray me."
Damn it, I should have listened. Her words prove true even
now, even now as I am sitting in this bed full of sweat-twisted
sheets entwined around my tired limbs. I cannot escape this destiny
she has wrought for me. And maybe I don't want to.
In my mind's eye, I can see the events leading up to her
demise. Should I weep for the innocence I ruined? I promised her
the world, I promised her my enduring love, I promised her--no, it
doesn't matter. I gave her eternity instead. I lied.
Perhaps even creatures of the darkness such as myself can feel
remorse for a lover killed. Perhaps even those living under the
bloodred moon of an eternal night can regret. Emotions I have never
before felt well up in my being like the tears I shed as I dream her
dream, the crimson tears that course down my cheeks silently as I
watch her perish and speak un-truths to her broken body.
There are no stars in the sky tonight. There have been none
since I allowed her spirit to pass on to dance in their light. She
should never . . . never have felt for me. What comfort could I
ever have offered, what love given? I know these things only in
the world of Morpheus. Nevertheless. . . .
WALK
WITH
ME
BELOVED
The window frame clatters with the shaking of the willow's
branches against it. I'll break them yet, if only to silence their
gesture of unrequited love. Reminding me so much that I do not
deserve anything but a swift end, they reach their bony fingers
towards my bed. Some midnight their mass will ensnare me and
suffocate me in the tired chains of surrender.
Time consumes passion, time destroys love, time will bring
the apocalypse. . . . Will I see her face at the end? That pale sun
with flaxen hair spooling down, flaring out like gorgeous
light-bursts, those lips who once told me all the secrets in the
world lay within my sleeping heart.
I burn in Hellfire, limb by heated limb, scorching in desire
for something that will never be.
LOCK
THE
DOORS
CLOSE
HEAVEN
AWAY
LEAVE
ME
TO
MY
TORMENT
I step into the light for the first time in four centuries.
For a moment, it feels glorious. And then I remember my race . . .
I recall the way . . . and my flesh starts to peel away into the
first dew of morning's gaze.
I'll join you soon; we'll dance together in both the sunlit
meadows and the moon-drenched beaches. The tides will teach us of
ourselves and the Everlasting, the grasses will sing dirges for
us to the obsidian sky.
Is this what it feels like to be free? My soul is light,
full of prancing blue diamonds, but that is overshadowed by an
all-consuming love . . . for you.
I'll leave my body behind, allow my phantom to seek you out.
It's tempting to fall into oblivion, to let you forget, to hide
in the pallid face of the Night.
ONE
FINAL
CHANCE
TO
ACHEIVE
HAPPINESS
No. Selenity, my everything . . . don't leave me alone. I
may be the fallen angel, the Lucifer, anti-Christ to your Messiah,
but . . .
Doesn't every Dark One truly desire the Light?
Scream Against the Violence (c) 8/5/01 -- Loralei Fairhill ~EMSiT~
--You steal, you die. Simple as that. ^_~
"akairo" (c) 6/30/01 -- Loralei Fairhill ~EMSiT~
--You steal, you'll die an even more painful death than the above.
Need I say more?
++ I have this irrational fear of someone taking my work in light of
recently discovered plagiarism. If I EVER find ANYONE doing that to
me, I swear I'm going to leave the FF world forever. That's not an
empty promise, either, I really will. And I'd hate to do that . . .
so please, try to be creative yourselves! You've all got something
special, I'm sure! Just don't try to take MY something special. I
could never forgive anyone for that, even if I wanted to. It would
just hurt me too much. That's why I keep saying I'll kill anyone who
steals from me. I really wouldn't, you know, but I'd be incredibly
upset. ESPECIALLY if you take my poetry. That's completely unforgivable.
My poetry is . . . like . . . a sacred thing to me. If that bond is
broken . . . *shakes head* I don't even want to think it. Let's just
leave it at I don't want to sound mean about this, but I'm very very
protective of my writing. It's my passion and my obsession. ^_~
Additional notes:
Minna,
You all will never know what I've gone through to get a story out
for Mamo-day. First, I thought I'd send out the last parts of both
Stairway to Heaven and Awakenings. I was almost done, too, when Friday
with its horrors hit and Genso went on hiatus. I screamed, wailed
and generally threw a temper tantrum at her about it, but she
refused to help me write and flew off in a huff. ^^;;
So here I was today, pondering the iminent joys of pink hair *gag*
and talking to the lovely Antigone (*waves* Hi, Antig-chan! ^_^) when
I got this idea.... and I was wondering... should I even attempt a
Mamo-fic or just resign myself to a new ugly hair color?
That's when inspiration hit. You got it, Genso was back with a
vengence. Not to help with the two unfinished multi-parters, but
to lend her talents with a new piece of fiction, Scream Against
the Violence.
So... to insert a disclaimer that I failed to stick into the
author's notes:
I'm not sane. I don't pretend to be, nor do I pretend to own
anything besides my words. Me = poor artist. ^^;; Don't sue, okay?
Oh, and if you didn't get it by the end of the 'fic... you steal,
I'll send all of Hell's wrath after you in the night to rob you of
your dreams and strangle you in your sleep. Either that or you'll
meet a pointy reckoning some Midnight, slicing through the air
like burnished silver and you'll never know what hit you. I'm nice,
aren't I? --;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;
FEEEEEEEEEEEEDBACK!!
*insert Minnesotan accent* It makes the world go 'round, doncha
know. ^_~
Loralei1300@aol.com
*glomps* I LOVE YOU ALL!!!!!!
~Loralei
ps: If anyone has ANY Gackt mp3's they'd like to share, I'd be
much obliged! I'm dying to listen to his voice. ^_~ Arigato!
By: Loralei Fairhill
Part: 1/1
Rated: PG-13
Genre: poetic reflection piece
Notes: Don't ask where this came from. I was talking to Antigone,
despairing that I was going to have to dye my hair pink because
I had no Mamo-day story, and this popped up. I thought Genso was
on hiatus, but . . . maybe not? Enjoy.
EMAIL: Loralei1300@aol.com
Oh, and if you don't like the way I portrayed the characters, tough.
I seriously don't want to hear about it. That's your problem, not
mine. ^_~ (READ: This is only for those of you who desire to FLAME.
Others, just read and . . . um . . . I hope you like! ^_^)
"akairo"
i see red red red where is my white poem i ask into the silent
unfortunate darkness all i see is red red red obscuring my vision
and i want clarity the emotions scattered across your twisted visage
should be so easy to hide away from the light no silver lining able
to be conjured from here no thought no pain no love just red red
red as if the apocalypse had already come to find me and i failed
to tell you before the end kami-sama if that were to happen it's 8
am again shimmering heat rising from the sidewalk up to my apartment
window coloring my strawberry curtains reflecting droplets into the
furnace air of my room the bottom of my soul rises in my throat i
want to vomit it up it's killing me slowly maybe if the sun-beaten
atmosphere were to swallow it down i'd find peace red red red it's
beating through my brain again all because of you cringing curling
back to fetal position i hold at bay the engulfing fear that this
crimson causes life blood flows like a river pushing skin back
drowning eyes in painful liquid dreams turn black hazy clouds descend
into the morning why did i wake up so early from the nightmares of
red red red nothing to be afraid of i can't see the future yet the
feeling of certainty remains these are the truths undeniably so maybe
my vision isn't obscured but i cry out into the imaginary jungle
night still i want my white poem never more to see red red red
The vision. There it goes again, pummeling my brain with
darkness, reeking with evil. How can I never escape it? I feel my
drowning soul voicelessly scream and my ears shirk at the sound.
Every night the same pain, every night the same dreams.
The curse continues. She told me, "I would follow you to the
grave and back. I will never leave you alone if you break my heart.
Your sanity will shrivel and your body will follow mine into the
cold, hard-packed Earth if you betray me."
Damn it, I should have listened. Her words prove true even
now, even now as I am sitting in this bed full of sweat-twisted
sheets entwined around my tired limbs. I cannot escape this destiny
she has wrought for me. And maybe I don't want to.
In my mind's eye, I can see the events leading up to her
demise. Should I weep for the innocence I ruined? I promised her
the world, I promised her my enduring love, I promised her--no, it
doesn't matter. I gave her eternity instead. I lied.
Perhaps even creatures of the darkness such as myself can feel
remorse for a lover killed. Perhaps even those living under the
bloodred moon of an eternal night can regret. Emotions I have never
before felt well up in my being like the tears I shed as I dream her
dream, the crimson tears that course down my cheeks silently as I
watch her perish and speak un-truths to her broken body.
There are no stars in the sky tonight. There have been none
since I allowed her spirit to pass on to dance in their light. She
should never . . . never have felt for me. What comfort could I
ever have offered, what love given? I know these things only in
the world of Morpheus. Nevertheless. . . .
WALK
WITH
ME
BELOVED
The window frame clatters with the shaking of the willow's
branches against it. I'll break them yet, if only to silence their
gesture of unrequited love. Reminding me so much that I do not
deserve anything but a swift end, they reach their bony fingers
towards my bed. Some midnight their mass will ensnare me and
suffocate me in the tired chains of surrender.
Time consumes passion, time destroys love, time will bring
the apocalypse. . . . Will I see her face at the end? That pale sun
with flaxen hair spooling down, flaring out like gorgeous
light-bursts, those lips who once told me all the secrets in the
world lay within my sleeping heart.
I burn in Hellfire, limb by heated limb, scorching in desire
for something that will never be.
LOCK
THE
DOORS
CLOSE
HEAVEN
AWAY
LEAVE
ME
TO
MY
TORMENT
I step into the light for the first time in four centuries.
For a moment, it feels glorious. And then I remember my race . . .
I recall the way . . . and my flesh starts to peel away into the
first dew of morning's gaze.
I'll join you soon; we'll dance together in both the sunlit
meadows and the moon-drenched beaches. The tides will teach us of
ourselves and the Everlasting, the grasses will sing dirges for
us to the obsidian sky.
Is this what it feels like to be free? My soul is light,
full of prancing blue diamonds, but that is overshadowed by an
all-consuming love . . . for you.
I'll leave my body behind, allow my phantom to seek you out.
It's tempting to fall into oblivion, to let you forget, to hide
in the pallid face of the Night.
ONE
FINAL
CHANCE
TO
ACHEIVE
HAPPINESS
No. Selenity, my everything . . . don't leave me alone. I
may be the fallen angel, the Lucifer, anti-Christ to your Messiah,
but . . .
Doesn't every Dark One truly desire the Light?
Scream Against the Violence (c) 8/5/01 -- Loralei Fairhill ~EMSiT~
--You steal, you die. Simple as that. ^_~
"akairo" (c) 6/30/01 -- Loralei Fairhill ~EMSiT~
--You steal, you'll die an even more painful death than the above.
Need I say more?
++ I have this irrational fear of someone taking my work in light of
recently discovered plagiarism. If I EVER find ANYONE doing that to
me, I swear I'm going to leave the FF world forever. That's not an
empty promise, either, I really will. And I'd hate to do that . . .
so please, try to be creative yourselves! You've all got something
special, I'm sure! Just don't try to take MY something special. I
could never forgive anyone for that, even if I wanted to. It would
just hurt me too much. That's why I keep saying I'll kill anyone who
steals from me. I really wouldn't, you know, but I'd be incredibly
upset. ESPECIALLY if you take my poetry. That's completely unforgivable.
My poetry is . . . like . . . a sacred thing to me. If that bond is
broken . . . *shakes head* I don't even want to think it. Let's just
leave it at I don't want to sound mean about this, but I'm very very
protective of my writing. It's my passion and my obsession. ^_~
Additional notes:
Minna,
You all will never know what I've gone through to get a story out
for Mamo-day. First, I thought I'd send out the last parts of both
Stairway to Heaven and Awakenings. I was almost done, too, when Friday
with its horrors hit and Genso went on hiatus. I screamed, wailed
and generally threw a temper tantrum at her about it, but she
refused to help me write and flew off in a huff. ^^;;
So here I was today, pondering the iminent joys of pink hair *gag*
and talking to the lovely Antigone (*waves* Hi, Antig-chan! ^_^) when
I got this idea.... and I was wondering... should I even attempt a
Mamo-fic or just resign myself to a new ugly hair color?
That's when inspiration hit. You got it, Genso was back with a
vengence. Not to help with the two unfinished multi-parters, but
to lend her talents with a new piece of fiction, Scream Against
the Violence.
So... to insert a disclaimer that I failed to stick into the
author's notes:
I'm not sane. I don't pretend to be, nor do I pretend to own
anything besides my words. Me = poor artist. ^^;; Don't sue, okay?
Oh, and if you didn't get it by the end of the 'fic... you steal,
I'll send all of Hell's wrath after you in the night to rob you of
your dreams and strangle you in your sleep. Either that or you'll
meet a pointy reckoning some Midnight, slicing through the air
like burnished silver and you'll never know what hit you. I'm nice,
aren't I? --;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;
FEEEEEEEEEEEEDBACK!!
*insert Minnesotan accent* It makes the world go 'round, doncha
know. ^_~
Loralei1300@aol.com
*glomps* I LOVE YOU ALL!!!!!!
~Loralei
ps: If anyone has ANY Gackt mp3's they'd like to share, I'd be
much obliged! I'm dying to listen to his voice. ^_~ Arigato!