The Lost Islands
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Making love to a m e m o r y
Posted on March 22, 2016 at 07:54:26 PM by Macabre




"If Love himself weep, shall not lovers weep,
learning from what sad cause he pours his tears?
Love hears his ladies crying their distress,
showing forth bitter sorrow through their eyes
because villainous Death has worked its cruel
destructive art upon a gentle heart,
and laid waste all that earth can find to praise
in a gracious lady, save her chastity."

The petite mare returns to Paradise from the familiar trail which lead to other parts of Atlantis. Her eye is frantic, her mood on edge. But she does her best to remain relaxed, at least in demeanor, as she strides forward and crosses back into Paradise territory. Part of her feels a flood of relief as her hooves hit the soil of the terrain in which she called home, as if now that she was here, the series of events that led her to disappear for merely one evening had been erased and she was safe. But deep down, the mare knew that was likely not the case.

Her heart beat loudly in her chest as the thought lingered. She thought of Ailill but dreaded him spying her now. He would be certain to smell Vodnik on her. And how would she even begin to explain?

A clap of thunder erupted from the dark sky above her. Macabre prayed for rain, even if it was this summer thunderstorm that caused her all this trouble in the first place.




"Hear then how Love paid homeage to this lady;
I saw him weeping there in human form,
observing the stilled image of her grace;
and more than once he raised his eyes toward Heaven,
where that sweet soul already had its home,
which once, on earth, had worn enchanting flesh."

Macabre | 6 | Mare | Mustang X Morgan | 14.2 HH | flaxen chestnut | © Vinyl




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