Welcome to the Worlde of a Fated Fey, one who walks the Shadows between the OtherSide and this Dreamland. This is the Book of Shadows of a hereditary and self-taught Magickal Woman; a Dreamer who possesseth the lineage of Fae, Wytch and Starr Blood. Interwoven together to make an ecclectic source of Magick and Chaos. To walk between the Worldes of the Starrs, the Hidden Realms, the Spirit Worlde and to also Live a human life...

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Unleashing and Awakening the Dragon within...

Uncoil the beat of the soul.  Memories within wrap themselves around the past and your blood pumps with the heart song of the ancients, winding also around theyr memories.  Together, you just Are.  All that you seek, all that you yearn... is just You.  Your memories, your future aspirations; they all Are and they all have Been.  How your blood draws you near, us near. 
              The Dragon resides in your base core or chakra it can be called, this is your basic instinct.  All the emotions of Power, the energy that drives you forward... this is Dragon.  The heat you feel when adrenalin pumps in excited fashion... this is Dragon.  The love that is unconditionally eternal, ancient and strong... this is Dragon.   From the tip of your spine, the tailbone to your skull... is the Dragon.                    Arms stretched wide, form the wings of Dragon...You.  This is the Kundalini, the serpent that Awakes...the wingless Dragon.  This power source centre contains all your chakras, it is the Rainbow Serpent. 
Society and hystory in general, has taught us to be uncomfortable with these mythological beings.  Those who feel the bloodcall, who are able to draw power and strength from the older than time ancient ones, grow stronger and much clearer once they learn to feel comfortable with theyr uniqueness.  Theyr is a surety with such energy seeping off one’s aura and energetic fields, people will be instinctively uncomfortable within your presence.  Sending off a refined and regal, albeit occasionally masculine-like quality regardless of whether it is a Lord or Lady of the Dragon Realm masquerading momentarily as a human and living a nonchalant life that all will be provided in abundance.  This charm really does ensure they always do, a feat I now see accomplished after an intense frowning concentration session from my oldest borne son who has now discovered he is the companion to a Chaos Dragon as he says... and the way my brother just sits backs and receives with a huge, knowing smile upon his face, much to his amusement and my thoughts of why is it in my family the girls surely have to work so much harder for it. 
                                 Stand theyr out in nature, in the wood and trees or in the wide open spaces and just breathe in the air, arms out wide and face towards the sky... Inhale deeply and draw the power within, imagine you are looking at your tailbone, see that you can feel the tip of the dragons tail uncoil and stand straight.  Up along your back, the Dragon uncoils and feels free once more, feel the Dragon stretch and energy raise from your base to your head.  Your head and back is now the Dragons head and tail.  Arms out wide, you and the Dragon become as One, are One.  Breathe deeply and inhale, keep this going as you raise the Power and feel ready to Soar! As you open your new eyes, how do you see the worlde now?
                 Much differently I expect...

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

A traverse throughout Hystory and Mythology...)O(

Inanna's descent into the
“I went there of my own free will.
I went there in my finest gown,
with my rarest Jewels
With my Queen of Heaven crown
In the Underworld
At each of the Seven Gates
I was stripped seven times
Of all that I thought I was
Till I stood bare in who I really am.

The Birth of Aphrodite...
            Aphrodite, her birth results when Kronos castrates his father and throws his testicles away.  The blood from the wound falls on earth and generates the Erinyes, Giants and Ashtree Nymphs.
The genitals, cut off with adamant
and thrown from land into the
stormy sea.
Were carried for a long time on
the waves;
White foam surrounded the
immortal flesh,
And in it grew a girl.  At first it
On holy Cythera, from there it
To Cyprus, circled by the waves.
And there
The goddess came forth, lovely,
much revered,
and grass grew up beneath her
delicate feet.
Her name is Aphrodite among
And gods, because she grew up in
the foam,
And Cytherea, for she reached that
And Cyprogenes, from the stormy
where she was born, and
Phillommedes from
The genitals, by which she was
Eros is her companion; fair Desire
Followed her from the first, both
at her birth
and when she joined the company
of the gods.
From the beginning, both among
gods and men,
she had this honour and received
This power:
Fond murmuring of girls, and
smiles, and tricks.
And sweet delight, and
friendliness and charm.

Homer; VIII
to Ares...
            Ares, exceeding in strength, chariot-rider, golden-helmed, doughty in heart, shield-bearer, saviour of cities, harnessed in bronze, strong of arm, unwearying, mighty with spear, O defence of Olympus, father of Warlike Victory, ally of Themis, stern governer of the rebellious, leader of righteous men, sceptred King of manliness, who whirl your fiery spear among the planets in their seven-fold courses through the aether wherein your blazing steeds ever-bear you above the third firmament of heaven; hear me, helper of men, giver of dauntless youth!  Shed down a kindly ray from above upon my life, and strength of war, that I may be able to drive away bitter cowardice from my head and crush down the deceitful impulses of my soul.  Restrain also the keen fury of my heart, which provokes me to tread the way of blood-curdling strife.  Rather, O blessed one, give you me the boldness to abide within the harmless laws of peace, avoiding strife and hatred and the violent fiends of death.

Sokrates speech of Persephone...
            “Let us inquire what thought man had in giving them (the gods) their names... The first men who gave names (to the gods) were no ordinary persons, but high thinkers and great talkers... Pherephatta!-- How many people fear this name, and also Apollon!  I imagine it is because they do not know about correctness of names.  You see they change the name Phersephone and its aspect frightens them.  But really the name indicates that the goddess is wise; for since things are in motion (pheromena), that which grasps (ephaptomenon) and touches (ephapon) and is able to follow them is wisdom.  Pherepapha, or something of the sort, would therefore be the correct name of the goddess, because she is wise and touches that which is in motion (epaphe tou pheromenou) and this is the reason why Haides, who is wise, consorts with her, because she is wise-- but people have altered her name, attaching more importance to euphony than to truth, and they call her Pherephatta!-Persephone.”

                                                                   Wif of Bathes Tale...
“In Th' olde days of The King Artour,
Of which That Bretons speken gret honour,
I was this lond fulfild of faerie;
The elf-quene, with joly compaigne,
Danced full ofte in many grene mede.
This was The olde opinion, as I rede;
I speak of many hundred yeres ago.
But now no man se none elves mo,
For now The great charitee and prayers
Of limitours and other holy freres,
That serchen every lond and every streme,
As thikke as motes in the sonnebeme,
Blissing halles, chambres, kitchens, boures,
Citees and burghes, castle highe and toures,
Thropes and bernes, shepenes and dairies,
This maketh that ther ben no faeries.”

Heirachie of Angells...
“In John Milesius any man may reade
Of divels in Sarmatia honored,
Call'd kottri, or kibaldi; such as wee
Pugs and Hob-goblins call their dwellings bee
In corners of old houses least frequented,
or beneath stacks of wood: and these convented,
Make fearfull noise in buttries and in dairies;
Robin Goodfellowes some, some call them fairies.
In solitairie roomes these uprores keepe,
And beat at dores to wake men from their slepe;
Seeming to force locks, be ne'er so strong,
and keeping Christmas gambols all night long.
Pots, glasses, trenchers, dishes, pannes and kettles,
They will make dance about the shelves and settles,
As if about the kitchen tost and cast,
Yet in the morning nothing found misplac't.”

Monday, September 12, 2011

The madness of Lord Byron...

haunted Dreams of being Annesley.

This is the story to end the Haunting
Visions in my head and voices from the Dead
A long time they have been waiting
along the course of the ebb and flow of Time
that goes Forever by.
Waiting, Waiting, Waiting
For the one who completes the Circle.
            The Dream was the poem, the verbatim that has made family hystory and generational haunting true, for me anyhow.  The realisation of how one's Dreams, one's ancestory, one's Blood can be tied to the realm of public display and hystory.  Teetering on the brink of the madness of Byron and his love for a Lady who's blood runs with a touch of my own, my own veins thrive with the words wanting to be brought to Life.  Poetic passion and a mind not unlike Byron's.  Is that why they touch upon me, the spirits of an uneasy rest? The fact that I can See and hear the wordes, as like Mary Chaworth, I too am also touched with the Sight. Byron was madly, and once unrequitedly in Love with she who's mother shared my own name.  At some stage, our three Bloods doth intermingle. 
            They will not rest 'til theyr tale is told and finished.  As Lord Byron in death and once in Life, his very selfe has to express the poetry of his Heart and let all and sundry know his Love is now complete.
...And out of Madness and Eternal Loneliness you call Life
And from the Foreverness and Freedom you call death
It is Greater than that which you call Life
It is Love...
Love is my Reward, which is my Magickal Birth Right...

The Dream...
Written by Lord Byron, at the Hills of  Annesley; the ancestral home of my family.
It is very important to me this beautiful poem, not just because of where it was given creative life, but because it was written about one of my ancestresses, Mary Chaworth the True Love of Lord Byron.  It explains of her demise within the apparent throes of madness of having the Sight, and being fey; hopefully not for me, but I am ever aware of the risks of the Other Worlde.  After her lonely death in Annesley Hall, Lord Byron finally truly learns the Secrets of Annesley Magick.. It is said it was written about my relation long ago, but as it is called The Dream, what if it was about a future Dream... of Me?

Verse VII 
… but the look
Which is not of the Earth; She was become
The queen of a fantastic realm; her thoughts
were combinations of disjointed things:
And forms impalpable and unpercieved
of other's sight familiar to hers...

Verse VIII
… and made him friends of the mountains; with the stars
And the quick spirit of the Universe
He held his dialogues; and they did teach
to him the magic of the mysteries:
To him he book of Night was opened wide,
and voices from the deep abyss revealed
A marvel and a secret- Be It So.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Atlantean Memories Continued...

Atlantean Memories Continued...
               It’s funny, so many words and thoughts are tangling my mind.  But once, as soon as I hit the beach, they have all but disappeared.  Clarity No, but release Yes!
                I am an electrical conduit it seems, at the moment it is changing, growing stronger but not so in control of.  I feel like an X-men First Class, just learning her power.  But it is not new, it is an olde one and needed again, once more. 
                **You are afraid to use it and fear learning it, so you shut it down.  It has been used before, never misused as you have thought long ago.  It was needed that way, to end that way.  The power of misbegotten acts and beluigered creatures, it became.  It hurt you to see others use your powers that way.  But now theyr is strength in numbers, none of you are alone or separated no more.  You can hear and feel others across the worlde.  Those made before like you (created from your genes as they extracted them) they are coming back once again for guidance.  They know somewhere deep within them, that they are in fact part of you- your D.N.A, your magickal powers as you call them.
                You need to learn your skills and remember exactly who you are, no matter how hard.  So you can help them to Release theyr binds of Soul.  You never bound theyr soul intentionally, out of own small act of creation from your blood does not make you theyr owner, master..But theyr Leader.

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Earth, Air, Fire and Sea...)O(

Earth, Air, Fire and Sea
Goddess, please come to me
Am I forsaken
Has my Soul been taken
I am Your Daughter
Risen out of the water
I am Your Mother
At One with the Father
I am Your Sister
In my Soul I hear You whisper
Goddess, I feel so alone
Have I somewhere to call my home
Is theyr room in this worlde for me
Can You tell me what You see
Air, Fire, Sea and Earth
Goddess, I call You to my hearth
I am so confused inside
To You I can only confide
My power has waned
My emotions are swayed
Have I done wrong
I cannot hear Your song
You are my Daughter
Gone back to the water
You are my Mother
Alone with my Father
You are my Sister
To my Soul will You whisper
I drew down the Moon
I became a part of Your womb
I lifted up the Sun
Together we were as One
But now we are so far apart
I cannot feel You in my heart
Fire, Sea, Earth and Air
Goddess, You are everywhere
Can You hear my plea
I want to know You are here with me
Isolated by myselfe
I have done this to myselfe
You are somewhere in my heart
But for awhile I fell apart
I left you for a time
Consumed in this pain of mine
Sea, Earth, Air and Fire
Goddess of the Earth, Gaia
You are known by many names
From You my Soul I claim
Alone in this worlde of Yours
I live by life’s Sacred Laws
I am calling You here with me
Into the heart I try to flee
I want sanity in this discourse
I need to feel Your loving force
But I know what it is I ask
Has been hidden by my Dark
Earth, Fire, Air and Sea
Goddess, I need to release from me
The pain that lives inside
The insanity that I abide
No more darkness from the deep
I want to Awaken from my sleep
Goddess, I thank You for
The lessons that I live for
I know that inside it is me
Not You, I try to flee
Bring me back to Your hearth
Back into the womb of the Earth.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Dear Goddess, this be the hystory that makes a piece of mee )O(

Part One:
The Mary Magdalene Connection..
 Maternal Great-Grandfather- Dupin, was once altered from Du Pont.
Paternal Great-Grandfather- Cobber Herod, direct descendant of King Herod.
         My hystory, it has been an ongoing dispute with myself and very much a challenge to piece it together.  And it was, unknowingly, an answer to a call I made for some 'higher guidance'...
            The Holy Grail is You.  You are the Chalice.  My mother has no cervix or female parts inside, caused from cancer, her Chalice is empty but fills with an amazing writing language (google Mary Rodwell, e.t contactee, she has some and some scientific way of interpreting).  I have the ability to interpret emotionally, but find it a hard challenge to muster want to, but as she became unwell I now keep them under magickal Protection and asked my gods for a means of getting them into the worlde where they should be.  Caretaker and she still writes more.  The Bloodline most important she says, we have such a scattered hystory on her side it is so hard to find out much, and all the elders except my nan, (nee Dupin) have passed on.  Her own mother tried to ritually sacrifice my mother when she was a childe, possessed by daemons they say,, but you could say the same thing if you hear my mum speak her language.  Personally, I do believe based on me and my mum and my nan, its e.t Bloodline, and magickal powers is what I add.  Odd, but aliens have always been an accepted fact of life in my family, magick was the evil and taboo, but my nan says i'm fine and meld it perfectly. Cuppas and having a chat take on a much different turn at our house,, than most peoples!
           I believe Mary Magdalene was a priestess, I have not really researched her past and would of thought of the Goddess Isis, but I may be wrong, somehow a priestess of Ma'at seems more appropriate.  Jesus was a magician, his powers are a display of magick that we all can learn but somehow his Bloodline makes it ever more potent.  He is a son of God, hystory and the bible got the Story wrong.
            Even though it is my mother that is the one who feels the connection with Mary and Jesus, as close and real as I have with the Gods and Goddesses, and acts as a Holy Grail, it is my fathers side that has the 'real' evidence not just what you 'know' in your bones and can't deny.  My father is the Grandson of Cobber Herod, direct descendant of king Herod, a proud thing to be she apparantely always said before her passing.  The name Annesley, from a little personal research, is prominent within many worlde changing events and steeped with magick and hystorical records (loves it!!...).  Alice Annesley married into the family of, and bore Paganus Chaworth, a Crusader of King Richard and his seal, used by Annesley's, was mother Mary holding baby Jesus in her lap and a cap with a feather in it keeps standing out as importance to me.. My brother is the one who keeps knowledge of our crest, and is even making a new one for these times and our branch of lineage.  It is my uncle who has the family tree, I am the one who can put it together.  The Annesleys, after the marriage of Alice to George Chaworth, the brothers branched off around the worlde, our line lost our knighthood and we moved to Australia lost and forgotten I suppose, until facebook and we are all getting to know each other again.  Timing is a strange thing.  D.N.A and genetics are truly a force behind our actions, unwittingly and with a lot of love Herod married and turned into Annesley.  Dupin (Du Pont) marries Carty (gypsys, famous dowsers. Once McCarthy of the First Fleet but changed to Carty.)
So, the Dupin's (Du Pont) and Carty (McCarthy) line, ties the Bloodline together with Herod and Annesley, to make me, my brother and sister.  Mary Magdalene/ Holy grail Crusader's/ King Herod blood all mixed together is my strange hystory and what for?
1...                Cobber Herod said it was a very proud thing to be a Herod, and it's not what the bible says.  Have just learned of Ehud Netzer, archaeologist, he spent his life proving them wrong. The whole kill all first born sons karma seems to hit my life, I have four sons and no daughter what I used to call the Herod Curse, but they are genius and well bred.
2...              Mum has always said and believed Mary and Jesus bore childe, the Holy Grail is that childe.
3...               I remember overhearing childehood conversations from both family sides saying that, Jesus (especially Mary magdalene) escaped and left to France (Du Pont connection?).  Cobber also said King Herod was the one who helped them escape, attonement, friendship, alliance.  Years ago that was, she was dead years before Da Vinci Code, Holyblood HolyGrail times.. Mum used to look for her own name in that book Lol..
4...              Annesley Manor housed the Crusaders, King Richard, Robin Hood etc.. Lord Byron wrote The Dream (a guideline for me somehow it works).  Google Annesley Manor, Paganus Chaworth, Felley Priory.  My distant relations now owns it back, and live at Castlewellan forest (theyr sooo fae without really knowing).  Theyr the family closer to the lineage of royalty, my uncle Danny would have been Sir, if not for our side losing its Title (we ALL get bugged bout that,, if only..Lol).
5...               My mother's side is very closed about its hystory, not much is allowed to be talked about, its getting easier to now though. 
6...               Dad's side is fairly easy, Annesley and Herod is much known about if you google. That always amuses me..!
It is a little hard for me to try to put my ancestory together, what I denied for so long and was ashamed of, is kind of cool.  To put my family hystory together is a big task, and a hobby hoping to turn into acceptance of myself and all that comes with.  Perfect timing and Magick is the only way it Works with me...
Bright Blessings of
            Love and Whysdoms,
            Belinda Annesley. )0(

The Isle of Fraser, Ancient Memories and Mermaid Dreamings.

Remembering the Mother Land on Fraser Island )O(....
         Theyr is an offshore lesson to Return to the Watery Deep/Keepe.  To Envision one's mermaid legs or tail (yes, some did have legs and naught a tail.) is not enough, the molecules need to Change.  This is how you Shift.  Lemurians were Shifters, they still are.  Mermaids, Magickal Creatures and Beings alike and akin to faery folks, of both the Lands and the Sea.  Atlantis was meant to be theyr Safe Harbour.  We/they are still paying theyr dues.
            Pristine white sands, glorious tranquil seas, were a drawcard for vengeances and many jealousies between the Gods and the Peoples.  Atlantis was originally in awe of the Lemurians, but once captured and kept, the Mu Spirit of Indefeat did in fact become, theyr Defeat.  Wroth with rage and the times, Atlantis harnessed theyr Powers and turned it into Technology.  See, once Atlantis was not that Way... it was as Great with Glory as Mu, the Lemurian's of the Mother Land; the Original Ones.  But the Atlanteans could only Evolve in and to a certain capacity.  Thus began the Experiments on the Shifter Kind, the Magickal One's, those whose Heart's Beated with the Starrs and in time with the Earth.  The Lemurian's were once Whole.
            Horrific engineerings and splicings, Powers begot unnaturally and with over-zealous force.  The Legend is the Atlantis Fell in it's own Greed and Wraiths, the Reality is that this is so very True; but it was the gentle, graceful Lemurians who caused the Destruction to End the further Destruction.  Lemuria eradicated Atlantis using theyr own Powers Harnessed.  They went against the heirachie's and the governments (Strangers in a Strange Land.)  Atlantis was indeed felled by Lemuria.
            Theyr is an important message from these ancient times to learn from of this Past and its Karmic repercussions for millenia on; Never accept another power hungry country and it's governments Aid and   Help without fully understanding the consequences of these actions, because they also in fact become Yours.  The pain and resentment still resides and abides within humans to this day, of these very events, its tainted   memories Weaved with theyr Blood and Sinew and scattered remnants of Dreams.  Sadness dwells within theyr Hearts.  Minds and Mouths overflow with the Knowledge of the Past, and its Hystory...now Rise and ReCall.  So whence Repeated, it is not allowed for abominations upon Nature.  This time now, its leaders are fully aware and remember the consequences, but they still gather in the hope of Amnesia and Repression of the Lemurians and Atlanteans reincarnated today , that these memories and recollections are not remembered...but they are! 
            Your danger isn't in the race and quickening of Awakening and Remembrance, to accomplish in some certain Time, for theyr is No Time.  It is for Fear of the Past, where those Fear to Tred.  That which you done unto others, or that which was done unto You.  If chosen Not to Remember, this shall happen again, but this time Undefeated.  So Awaken!  Lemurians and Atlanteans!  Mermaids, Fae Folk, Shifters, Magickal Ones and Beasts!... Remember so that the Past is Not Repeated...  Remember Who and What You Are...
The First Ones,
The Olde Ones,
The Golden Ones!

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

To Shimmer and Shine...)O(

a prologue to faery shapeshifting.
      Fata Morgana... the very name itselfe imbues memories of mythology, magick and fae. Derived from an Italian translation of the Sorceress and faery ShapeShifting half-sister of King Arthur, the Morgan le Fey. This magickal name describes a very complex, decieving series of unusually elaborate vertically-stacked images, that form one rapidly-changing mirage. A very pretty and faeryesque description of ShapeShifting. The worde itselfe mirage comes to us from the Latin Mirare, meaning 'to look at, to wonder at', this is the same root line for the terms 'to mirror', and 'to admire'. ShapeShifting is the act of, or the magickal ability and power of metamorphosis, the transformation of the physical shape into another form; also known as transmorgification or transfiguration. This transformation can involve physical changes from a simple alteration of one's appearance, to a complete transformation into another bodily form. But to be a Shimmery One is when the shift takes place within the astral body, and can only be witnessed by others also within the aethers. This I seen during a dream of a friend, who had become a harpy that descended from the sky picking up people with her clawed talons, all the time screeching. To be a ShapeShifter on the astral plane does not come without warning, shifting dreams, flying dreams or running at extremely high speeds should not be kept in this state for long periods of time. The longer the Shift, the harder it is to change back and return.
It is the magick and nature of the faery wytch and those who carry it's BloodLine, to re-discover this innate built-in talent and genetic Wonder. The next time you see a crow remember that these common creatures have no natural enemies, and if acting peculiar, you may in fact have a Shifter about! That which Happens on the OtherSide of the DreamLand, will eventually manifest itselfe in this waking worlde. Dreams and residues of the Shimmery One, the Shining One, the Changeable One...sometimes leaves remnants and distant memories, of that which is told to be impossible, hence the warning!
As my magick grows stronger, I discovered that I do my best thinking in the InBetweens of Dreams and Wake, the Shadow Realm...and my kitty Twilight Merlyn Black sometimes gets very hungry and covered in dust in the morne also. After a period of Wolf and Shifter Dreams they began to leave real-Life residues. Dreams that I was up in a tree, upon waking I found a splinter embedded in my foot, and another I awoke with a long, red scratch upon my belly.
The physical manifestations of Shape Shifting and Shimmering was very evident in the reflection of the mirror of myselfe during a spontaneous, Shamanic experience. For Real-and not in DreamLand and the OtherSide. Fierce-looking, Bright with Light, Shining and Shimmering and more than a little scary, I looked back at myselfe with apprehension and the odd thoughts that I hoped I did not turn out too horrible looking. I felt different and so Alive with Power, repeating to myselfe the wordes of my Reflection “I Now Need This Strength And Fierceness To Survive!”. I grew much Brighter 'til I could stand no more, so I returned back to mee. Once before this, in another mirror spell of myne 'Goddess Divine, what You See I will know in Time.' brought forth the change in my eyes. First they were myne, then cat-like, lastly serpent; the very next day not far from where I lived had a Natural Disaster. I have warnings like that often.
I once saw a DragonFly Faery, and dragonfly's surely are not what they appear to be. They are the faery messengers of the Dragon Keepe. The faery's legs fuse together to form the dragonfly's tail, the back of the dragonfly is in fact the front of the dragon fae, as they lay back to back, wing to wing. This was my very first experience of ShapeShifting or Shimmering, something so magickal that was shown to mee to pique my curiosity of what can be.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Ambrosia, Beloved...

Dedicated to the Spirit of Ares,  By Bella Annesley.
Chapter One
            The name Ambrosia rolls palatably over my tongue, the sweet nectar of the Gods slides down the back of my mouth, heating the warmth in my belly and turning into fire.  Peeping into my own eyes, I stare back into the reflection of the mirror, already large and widened with recognition.  My pupils contract in the dazzling light exuding from my own very being.  Is this my essence, why do I shine?  Ambrosia, Beloved.
            Theyr is a story how I came into being, well remembrance actually.  A tale within stories, intrically woven through the hands of time and told by none other than the gods themselves.  Anna, the human and Ambrosia, companion and communer to the gods.  Two very different beings now reside within me and I can certainly tell them apart.  Two separate worlds within one.  My world.  This is how I now am, I am no longer unsure of why I never did fit into the human world of the mundane.  Awkwardly traipsing through life, tripping over my own two left feet to find my own way.  Always aware of the reactions both men and women have towards me.  Nobody else could evoke such extreme love and hatred from another, oft times such conflicting emotions only resulted in most people fearing me.  I hated that most of all.
            How I wished dearly for another soul to converse my deep feelings with, but I found it so difficult to be amongst others for the most part.  Theyr energy always affected me, I absorbed it, and oft times I was left completely drained.  Good or bad, they soon learnt nothing went by without me sensing it.  Scary how I always knew.  Worst of all, nobody really wants a psychic girlfriend.  Alone and contemplating my existence and the actual necessity of it, if theyr ever really was one, was how I found my true name, Ambrosia.  Then he found me.

            “Ambrosia.”  It was the wind, it had to be or I was going crazy.  The name followed me everywhere, the whispers tickling the little hairs of my neck like a lover kissing my skin with his feathery lips.  A soft, silken touch to caress the nape of my neck, always.  “Ambrosia.” Again.
            For three days I heard this name, or thought I did.  I asked others if they too could hear the wind speak, but soon started to get the ‘I think its time for the men in white coats’ look.  So I stopped asking and locked my supposed insanity way down deep inside of my heart of hearts.  I heard his lovely voice everywhere, constantly.  Even in my sleep.  Thus, then came the dreams that began on the third night.  Sleeping and dreaming had always been a favourite past time of mine, easy to be able to forget the realities of my existence and escape inside of my very own DreamLand.
            He stood at the edge of a dark, dark forest.  His shadow, I could feel his eyes burning through my soul.  Electricity crackled in the air between us, I could no longer breathe.  This I found out, was how I always felt around him.  Apparantly, the feeling was mutual.  The shadow fell back further into the dark as he whispered what I now know to be my true name, my ancient name.  Ambrosia, Beloved.  His beloved.
Listen to my heart speak, it talks of you
My shadow, I feel you near
Your breathe reaches the moon
Your touch takes me to the stars
And your kiss burns like the sun.
Will you forever be just a dream
An omen of what will be
In a distant place you complete me
Far, far away hidden in the shadows
You watch me from afar, waiting
My hands reach for your outstretched arms
Almost touching
My head fills with your thoughts
My heart fills with your love
My body fills with your desire
Almost touching
Destiny’s colliding, you welcome me home.
            What a dream, I thought upon awakening.  It literally took me hours to shake the foggy clouds from my mind and eventually make them disappear.  My thoughts of the dark stranger only intensified and strengthened as the day wore on.  Now I could feel him everywhere.  The taste of blackberries and vanilla caressed the tips of my tastebuds and even seeped into the pores of my skin.  Now I smell like him too.  Very nice.
            Does it yet bother me that I know who or mostly, what he is?  I don’t think so, tis alot more bothersome the distraction of my now senseless mind that has slowly become awake with the new brightness I now view the world.  Even the dull brick wall outside looked pretty, how so?
            He is all that I can now think about, his voice and smell is all that I want and nothing else will ever do.  I want him, badly.  I know he is real or I must be crazy, and as much as I try to convince myself that I am, in my heart of hearts I truly believe I am not.  Just different, even more so now than I ever had thought.  I love him, I know that and I think he must love me.  Truly, it was not me that had sought him, does he think that I am beautiful?  How strange that the darkness sought me out and I found it impossibly beautiful, and I was enthralled.  Hope, tenderness and joy I felt within the darkness.
            All these emotions coursed through my veins as I stared back at my old/new self.  The reflection in the mirror of my safe, little bedroom did not look so different as I felt.  Perhaps within the throes of my own self-absorbed vanity I could imagine my eyes a slightly different, lighter shade of blue.  Brighter and more clearer than before, and if I turn my head ever-so slightly to the side, can I actually see a little through them?
            My nose, always I thought of it too big for my heart-shaped face, at a closer glance, was regal and elegant, enhancing my face instead of its usual bleak contrast.  I smile at the notion of my vain-ness and my lips, didn’t they use to be less blood red? The effects and subtle changes of my face enhanced my previous off-kilter looks.  Never had I felt so beautiful, and my hair once a black colour, so dark it almost seemed blue, had now the sun streaking through.
            I laughed to myself.  Hearing the sound of wind chimes caused me to stop and take note of the sound of my own laughter.  Taking an account of my newly changed parts, starting with my face, my hair, my laughter, which more than likely must mean my voice as well.  Was theyr going to be anything else I will find, I wonder.
Golden rays shine in her hair
Hair of the blackest night
Stars from the sky twinkles in her eyes
Eyes of the brightest light
She has ice in her heart
She has lust in her soul
She has the world at her feet
Watch out for her in your dreams
She’ll seduce you with your wildest dreams
She’ll drink your soul til she has her fill
But she will come back for more
Stealing your desires
Transforming your soul
Intoxicated by your taste
She lives in your dreams
Becoming stronger each night
Hers is of the dark fantasy
Wicked heart, wicked mind
Tortures your heart with one look from her eyes
For you cannot go back when touched
If she wants your soul.

Chapter Two.
The Dark Man, Ares.
            The dark stranger turned his head towards the darkened void, trying to recapture the scent he remembered from so long ago.  With it, also brought the promise he had committed his soul to and regretted for many, many millennia ago now.  But what is the space of time besides that of a blink of an eye?  Ambrosia, his Beloved.  He had never forgotten, just as he had promised his heart.  Let me introduce myself to you, Ares I am.  The dark warrior God of the Grecian times, Master of the Battlefield and servant to none.  Except my Beloved, ambrosia.  He watches her from the distance across the void between worlds.  His eyes mould themselves to every fibre of her being, trying to recapture her attention.  “Ambrosia.” He whispers.
            Once upon a day, a time long ago past theyr lived a poor, simple girl whose beauty knew no bounds.  So enthralling was she, even the Gods of Mount Olympus took note.  Ares, most especially.
            Bathing in the river by her papa’s farm had been a welcome daily ritual of hers ever since a small child.  How she loved feeling clean, but the river drew her for other reasons.  Most of all, her still child-like innocent mind could imagine that the tiny water splashes were not just fish, but an iridescent mermaids tail.  The light that managed to poke itself through the dark edge of the nearby forest, she could still imagine on some days was the light filtering off the wings of a faery.  Even though the habit had slowly been overtaken by Christianity, she still left outside her front door, a dish full of milk so the little people treated her kindly.  A custom that caused her to be ridiculed by her local kith and kin, and set her apart from the villagers alone after her mama and papa had crossed over to the summerlands.  Strange, she is.  A witch they say.
            This time her eyes wandered over the familiar and comfortable surroundings.  The only scenery she has ever known, the girl could picture the perfect sillouhette of a man hidden betwixt the shadows of the forest- no, it cannot be real.  Her imagination must have drifted away with the river to meet the sea.  Your mind is a glorious thing, it can make or break your sanity.  The shadows that interplay amongst each other can create and make forms.  The shadow grew stronger before her very eyes, the nervous feelings of being watched gradually disappeared, and in its replacement left a strong sense of curiosity.  Curiousness always got the better of the young girl though.
            Out from the river she stepped, her body glistening with water droplets and her hair hung damp down the length of her back.  Even though she was not clothed, any thought of her own nakedness, had also went down the river and into the sea, apparently.  He watched her, she saw him even though he had tried not to be obvious.  Oh well, he thought.  She seems to be an interesting one.
            What happens to those mere mortals who step towards the shadows of the Gods?  Never shall the world be the same again, because as surely as we can be dazzled by the Gods, so can they.  Theyr is a reason why the Gods keep theyr distance from us mere mortals; the humble human.  It is much safer for them as well as us, for them not to love a mortal.  See, humans have a fickle nature and are prone to such things as sickness and death.  Tis not ever the Gods whom change theyr mind for Love, or wither and die at an old age, as we do.  The Gods NEVER let go and they never die, so they try not to become fascinated by any human.  Although it is hard and not dabble into the messy life of a human, just watching would get a tad boring I ‘spose.
            The darkness at the edge of the forest encased her, making her feel warm and drowsy as she stepped forth towards and into it.  His hand held out to capture hers, and as she moved closer, she found hers naturally stretched out ready to take his hand in hers also.  The fascination of each   other built into a frenzy, her heart ready to explode out of her chest.  Surely he could hear this, she thought.  Tis the loudest noise in the forest, which is when she noticed the absolute stillness and quiet of the forest edge.
            Into the dark a little further back, he took a step back from whence he had come from.  She is not afraid, he thought.  And even though he is a mighty warrior, he felt slightly intimidated by her bawdiness and apparent lack of morality for a human girl-child.  Interesting, he thought.
            How does one approach the Gods?  If she had known who he actually was, she most surely would have felt somehow, slightly apprehensive at the least.  Why did she not hesitate?  The girl felt pulled, compelling was the vision of supreme masculinity encased within the shadows.  See, she could envision a man, and what a glorious man was he.  She knew him not to be a villager, or even a stranger.  Somehow, she KNEW him.  The quiet of the forest turned into a crackling sound, the girl could hear crickets everywhere, and the roar of a wood-fire.  How was that so?
            He is beautiful and I am not afraid.  And with that thought she crossed over, outside of the river and across the other side, she knew to be his domain.  The idea thrilled her, shivering in the dark as she stepped in the woods, her body covered with goose bumps. Not from the coolness f the water, nor from the darkened shadows, and certainly she did not shiver from any foreshadow of impending doom.  “Daemon!” others would yell, before fleeing.  Yet, she stays and moves the closer, he observes.
            The girl shivers, her body quivers and trembles with delight.  Different, and feeling like she had no control for the the actions administered by herself, she stepped forth and into the darkened shadow of the man.  He reached for her hand, and pulled her close to him.  His other hand held her face, and with comfortable ease her head fell into his palm, just resting theyr like home.  Yes, she felt like home.
Tormenting my torn-out insides
Is the dark passion of my wanting
A need for the light within my dark
To meet my dark and mesh my light
Flickering darkness taunts my brightness
Haunting me with this sensuality and violence
I know the pain and it feels so damn fine
To see my dark and free my plight
Bind me to your soul
It is the anguish of my need
To keep me whole
To keep me free
Ravish my heart and I will show you
Just what lays beneath.
            Slipping into the oblivion of memories held at bay by sheer immortal strength and nothing else, Ares’ lips turned up into a slight smile, and the smile reaching the crinkles of his eyes.  Yes, he says aloud.  “Ambrosia, I have not forgotten, and nor have you.”
            In another part of the world, at the same moment as he spake those words, the future self of his sweet Ambrosia, turns her head in recognition of a shared memory.  She is yet unaware but still entwined within.  Yes, she remembers.