Jah-Lilah
someday, we will foresee obstacles
All I remember is your back. You were walking towards the airport, leaving us all in your past.
The red mare was awake again this evening, kept from her slumber by a discomfort in her belly and an ache in her heart. Halfway through tending to her and Canaan's unborn child, and she hadn't brought herself to tell him yet. So unsure of herself, so unsure of their acceptance of her, but why? It was so easy to be a vessel, to be a source of pleasure, to be a throwaway. They took care of her, they loved her, but to allow one such as her to share their bloodlines...Jah-Lilah still had her doubts. Her mind wandered sometimes, back to her days as a vagabond, as an outcast. So much shame and hurt thrust upon her, she was almost glad she had never bore the King of the Vale any spawn. Shaking her feathery talisman, she is brought back to the now.
Turning back to her place at the beach, she is nurturing a small fire, different plants and herbs sitting at the center. It gives off a pleasant smelling smoke that is soothing her nausea and calming her nerves. She goes to retrieve more twigs to keep the fire satiated, trying to stay focused, keep to the task on hand, but it is difficult. Constantly she finds herself scanning the night skies, looking for a sign of him, every breeze in the wind causes her heart to skip a beat. It isn't him though. Her hormones are raging, her body burning for his touch, she wants him, she needs him. An urgency is overcoming her in a such a way it is terrifying. She doesn't know why suddenly she feels so small. It's as if she can't even stand on her own four feet, so crippling is her love.
Filled with longing, she trudges out to the shoreline, the waves lapping delicately at her hooves. She raises her head, sucking in the air, trying to detect any trace of her great lover. The wind coming from the water whips around her and she closes her eyes, imagining it is him, imagining it is @[Canaan]. Her breathing quickens, her pulse begins to race, her loins start to burn. She may be only fooling herself, he may not come, may not see her multicolored smoke signals, but she has to try. Her lips part to allow a pain-fueled whinny to cut through the quiet night air, begging, pleading for her lover to come to her.
I traveled fifteen-hundred miles to see you. I begged you to want me, but you didn't want to.
The red mare was awake again this evening, kept from her slumber by a discomfort in her belly and an ache in her heart. Halfway through tending to her and Canaan's unborn child, and she hadn't brought herself to tell him yet. So unsure of herself, so unsure of their acceptance of her, but why? It was so easy to be a vessel, to be a source of pleasure, to be a throwaway. They took care of her, they loved her, but to allow one such as her to share their bloodlines...Jah-Lilah still had her doubts. Her mind wandered sometimes, back to her days as a vagabond, as an outcast. So much shame and hurt thrust upon her, she was almost glad she had never bore the King of the Vale any spawn. Shaking her feathery talisman, she is brought back to the now.
Turning back to her place at the beach, she is nurturing a small fire, different plants and herbs sitting at the center. It gives off a pleasant smelling smoke that is soothing her nausea and calming her nerves. She goes to retrieve more twigs to keep the fire satiated, trying to stay focused, keep to the task on hand, but it is difficult. Constantly she finds herself scanning the night skies, looking for a sign of him, every breeze in the wind causes her heart to skip a beat. It isn't him though. Her hormones are raging, her body burning for his touch, she wants him, she needs him. An urgency is overcoming her in a such a way it is terrifying. She doesn't know why suddenly she feels so small. It's as if she can't even stand on her own four feet, so crippling is her love.
Filled with longing, she trudges out to the shoreline, the waves lapping delicately at her hooves. She raises her head, sucking in the air, trying to detect any trace of her great lover. The wind coming from the water whips around her and she closes her eyes, imagining it is him, imagining it is @[Canaan]. Her breathing quickens, her pulse begins to race, her loins start to burn. She may be only fooling herself, he may not come, may not see her multicolored smoke signals, but she has to try. Her lips part to allow a pain-fueled whinny to cut through the quiet night air, begging, pleading for her lover to come to her.
I traveled fifteen-hundred miles to see you. I begged you to want me, but you didn't want to.