Blue Bell

Blue Bell

Bell was  a deeply  troubled  child

No one  could train  her  she  was  wild.

Her days  spent foraging  in the wood

The  nights  she  spent  doing  no  good.

 

None  could ever of  fathomed  the limitlessness of her  soul.

The  sun  ruled  her  heart  and  the moon captivated  her  soul.

She  did not  age  only  her  beauty grew

Each month  with  the moon  she was born a new.

 

Many tried  to  own her  to tame  and  tie  her down.

All failed,  they perished  , disappeared  or  grew old in the attempt.

Yet Bell thrived on the  chase  and  trials  as  though  meant

To confuse  all and  fly in the face  of law  and  crown.

 

Those  who  knew her  then  have  long  since  perished

Gone  are  those  she  might of  cherished

She  alone wanders  far  and  wide spreading  her magic

But  for  the  fact  she  never  loved anyone  it  truly  would be tragic .

So in the  early morning mist  when all the  world  feels  new

Look around  and  you  will see  Bell on her carpet  of  blue.

 

March Speculative Fiction Prompt

Apocalypse.

First they came and it was like all hell had been let loose. They had brought the virus. It had spread like wildfire burning up the population. Those that were not infected were  slaughtered, a few survived.

Those that survived left the cities and towns keeping together for there was, then, safety in numbers.

The Vampires finally exhausted the all life on the planet. They began to die, no source of blood to sustain them they became extinct.

The tusnami came and seemed to cleanse the planet. It might of helped had there been a population left.

The night of the eclipse a lone figure ran through the city. Eyes full of fear legs driven by determination alone. Feet sinking in the wet sand.

It, was neither male nor female, human nor vampire. It was a hybrid, age could be no more than ten. Why can we be sure of that? Because ten years is all it had taken to bring this planet to this decaying state.

The hybrid found itself sinking into the sand. Terrified it struggled it had no knowledge of how to escape. It had struggled all it life to keep alive. It had known nothing but struggle.

Slowly the sand did its job and the hybrid suffocated and died.

There was soon nothing to even mark the hybrid’s passing. The eclipse did not end and eventually there was a planet no more just a dead rock.

*******

This is my entry for the Myths of Mirrors prompt for March.

Thursday photo prompt: Tranquil #writephoto

#writephoto

This is part of Sue Vincent‘s #writephoto. Today I have tried an Acrostic poem.

Tranquil

Too stressed to talk

Resentful I storm out

And went for a walk

Not heeding the direction

Quite by chance I find this place

Unspoilt by man’s intervention

I drink in its beauty and grace

Lost in Mother Nature’s beauty.

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