Shouldn't the title lure you in deep enough? Inspired by a friend's song. |
The Secret at Lavender Meadow The girl would roam those lavender meadows so softly, cooly, walking 'cause her heart knows nothing, falling, watching as his heart grows. The moon set low on a bed of snow. Lines raked down her cheek so sharp like the strings pulled taught on a blood-red harp, he shoved her down and she hit soft ground, quickly she tossed and harder he fought, with wild eyes of embers red-hot. Keeping good time they both danced rhyme to the lyrics of a snarl and a thin armed boulder, crushing the bones of his fur-coat shoulder. As a tear fell away, she regretted to say to the werewolf who's soul cracked into mortal light as she leaned in closer, hearts pounded harder, long-lost love you poor wretched creature, and he smiled at her with the grin of a reaper. Harshest promises slice through the night air, intricate scheming and she now finds him beaming, his lashes laden with fragile snow clinging spawning from the lovelss no longer and hope addresses that she is always stronger. They laughted so hard, finally pulled the right card fists on the door of a knock-knock joke knowing that her fright was only of his cloak puzzling the pieces, now sweeping the shards toghether and forever they will roam onwards. |