a raven or fallen nightingale gently caressed in the
arms of night, stroked by the elements of darkness and
yet the illuminence was astounding. Ashen flesh of
snow everescent in that angelic glow of moonfire and
mystique. Yes the ichors coursed through her veins but
she was not a creature of chaos and surely that would
be foreseen unless they were blinded by their own
hatred or lack of understanding, or simply lack of
compassion. She was simply lost to time and stumbled
within this forest; that was her purpose of being here
and none other. Now her fate was in the hands of
strangers yet to reveal themselves if indeed they
would? In that state of dark dreaming, two faces
appeared- both fading into the scant arabesque of
mist...they were lost to Camelot and now lost to her.
Her heart mourned in that instance and the roses wept.



__________________________________
Do you Yahoo!?
Read only the mail you want - Yahoo! Mail SpamGuard.
http://promotions.yahoo.com/new_mail