Like a gift from the heavens, it was easy to tell,
It was love from above, that could save me from hell.
It had been so long since I was inspired to take brush to canvass. Not so long in terms of my existence, but a decade is too long for anyone. My skill will never gain me critical acclaim, but then I?ve never been driven to put my emotions into it. I suppose that has always been the issue. Not being able to feel as I paint.
My work has always been technically perfect, yet very cold, unfeeling. I have thought I have fallen in love dozens of times over the centuries. Nay hundreds. My regard has always been fickle as I discover it is mere infatuation. My truth feelings have always been with the coterie that brought me in. I am an artist after all, second best will never do.
The first image is that of Mircea, so beautiful and so unattainable. I suppose I should feel honored that I am the one lover over the centuries he does not tire of. I paint him in the midst of the storm for which he is known. Gentle when he wants to be, deadly when it is needed, I am glad to know him. Yet I yearn for more than a passing night in someone?s arms.
Next image is the ever-deadly Trystan. Traitor to his people, shunned by ours, Whisper had the foresight to bring on this shadow dancer when all others had turned their backs. He has earned my trust and loyalty, though. I feel horrid for not giving him the benefit of the doubt sooner. He did not have to save my miserable hide, but he did. When he gives his loyalty, it is complete. My images are the only reflection of himself that he will ever see so I strive to do him justice. I pray I succeed.
It amazes me as my brush moves to see these images near spring to life as if I am capturing the men themselves within. It moves me in ways I did not think possible. For the first time since my embrace, I have found my fire.
The next image is more than just one but three. First is gentle Zacherye. He was just barely an adult when his sire cruelly destroyed his family. He is beautiful and very much a child in our world. Barely a decade has passed since his embrace, and all he has known is pain and torture. He is my responsibility, or so Whisper has declared. I suspect Whisper wants him trained to join us fully. It is a prospect that both warms and chills me.
Next is a young woman barely into the first blush of adulthood. She shares her looks with beautiful Zacherye and more. There is something feline about the child I once rescued from the woods a decade ago. I still remember those days and wish I could turn back the clock. Young Vanessa has indeed grown into a beauty in her own right much to the chagrin of her older brother, Charles.
The third image is of Charles or Chas as he likes to be known. When they were growing up, I remember well seeing the two brother?s together and thinking how much alike they seem, though Chas is the younger by a couple of years. Even now I see this beautiful man in my minds eyes and wonder how Zach would look had he been given the change to grown up. He, too, has that feline air and grace about him, something that Zach does not have. All three of the Dionyx siblings were forced to grown up before their time, though I do wonder what pain the younger siblings have gone through.
A crimson tear rolls down my cheek. I failed them all that night. I am lucky to be here now, were it not for a stranger that chose to hide me within the earth. I was left broken in the early morning light. I remember starting to feel the burns then a slightly deranged face. Something about that face was familiar, so familiar.
I must have slid into torpor for a time, because I remember vaguely being found by Trystan. They had been searching for me for years. My beloved Storm and Scorpion refused to give up until I was found.
La mia famiglia?
Like a piece to the puzzle that falls into place,
You could tell how we felt from the look on our faces.
* Lyrics by Chad Kroger and Carlos Santana, "Into the Night"
It was love from above, that could save me from hell.
It had been so long since I was inspired to take brush to canvass. Not so long in terms of my existence, but a decade is too long for anyone. My skill will never gain me critical acclaim, but then I?ve never been driven to put my emotions into it. I suppose that has always been the issue. Not being able to feel as I paint.
My work has always been technically perfect, yet very cold, unfeeling. I have thought I have fallen in love dozens of times over the centuries. Nay hundreds. My regard has always been fickle as I discover it is mere infatuation. My truth feelings have always been with the coterie that brought me in. I am an artist after all, second best will never do.
The first image is that of Mircea, so beautiful and so unattainable. I suppose I should feel honored that I am the one lover over the centuries he does not tire of. I paint him in the midst of the storm for which he is known. Gentle when he wants to be, deadly when it is needed, I am glad to know him. Yet I yearn for more than a passing night in someone?s arms.
Next image is the ever-deadly Trystan. Traitor to his people, shunned by ours, Whisper had the foresight to bring on this shadow dancer when all others had turned their backs. He has earned my trust and loyalty, though. I feel horrid for not giving him the benefit of the doubt sooner. He did not have to save my miserable hide, but he did. When he gives his loyalty, it is complete. My images are the only reflection of himself that he will ever see so I strive to do him justice. I pray I succeed.
It amazes me as my brush moves to see these images near spring to life as if I am capturing the men themselves within. It moves me in ways I did not think possible. For the first time since my embrace, I have found my fire.
The next image is more than just one but three. First is gentle Zacherye. He was just barely an adult when his sire cruelly destroyed his family. He is beautiful and very much a child in our world. Barely a decade has passed since his embrace, and all he has known is pain and torture. He is my responsibility, or so Whisper has declared. I suspect Whisper wants him trained to join us fully. It is a prospect that both warms and chills me.
Next is a young woman barely into the first blush of adulthood. She shares her looks with beautiful Zacherye and more. There is something feline about the child I once rescued from the woods a decade ago. I still remember those days and wish I could turn back the clock. Young Vanessa has indeed grown into a beauty in her own right much to the chagrin of her older brother, Charles.
The third image is of Charles or Chas as he likes to be known. When they were growing up, I remember well seeing the two brother?s together and thinking how much alike they seem, though Chas is the younger by a couple of years. Even now I see this beautiful man in my minds eyes and wonder how Zach would look had he been given the change to grown up. He, too, has that feline air and grace about him, something that Zach does not have. All three of the Dionyx siblings were forced to grown up before their time, though I do wonder what pain the younger siblings have gone through.
A crimson tear rolls down my cheek. I failed them all that night. I am lucky to be here now, were it not for a stranger that chose to hide me within the earth. I was left broken in the early morning light. I remember starting to feel the burns then a slightly deranged face. Something about that face was familiar, so familiar.
I must have slid into torpor for a time, because I remember vaguely being found by Trystan. They had been searching for me for years. My beloved Storm and Scorpion refused to give up until I was found.
La mia famiglia?
Like a piece to the puzzle that falls into place,
You could tell how we felt from the look on our faces.
* Lyrics by Chad Kroger and Carlos Santana, "Into the Night"