Mar 7, 2019 – willowdot21

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.

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