The Masks

Four masks interlocked in dreadful stare

Observation changing all before

Entangled weave of gazes entwined

To make all, that once was not,

Now there


Four masks caged in pained haunt

To build, To burn, To act, To plan

A raging storm with no end or halt

The vortex spiral of dreamland


Four masks making haste to plan all fate

Fighting for a secure place in the abyss

Longing to fill a thirst they cannot sate

Creating chaos in darkened mist

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Siren and Graven's Last Dance

The forest was thick dark and green with the aromas and musks of all kinds

filling the airs at every turn until Amisov walked into a clearing.

Axis spoke to her softly, "Let us not disturb them just yet and see who is the wiser."

Asimov was usually a willing participant to his silly games an compiled with

relative ease.

They peered into a 15 foot circular clearing where the four great masks had

been discovered by Graven and the nobles long ago. They where immaculate in

their construction and rivaled the very artistry of the Gaisphere(insert more

description of the masks in the clearing here). Two large figures sat stoic in great concentration dressed in full deep forest cool teperature regalia; heavy coats, sweaters large draping(wizard) head ware so as one could not easily make out their faces.

Their body movement suggested that of old friends...

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