From the Temple of Literature

Drew this a few days ago, think in represents the dramatic changes in Vietnamese culture and the decline of their traditional society.

Light Casts No Shadow

LIGHT CASTS NO SHADOWS.

No man can walk in the light without casting shadows, and one's shadows follow one everywhere.
No man can live all of his life in darkness, nor in light, therefore all men must cast shadows... but some cast longer and darker shadows than others.
Perhaps this is why I feel little regret for the terrible things that I have done. Perhaps it is because all of my actions seemed necessary at the time.
Now it is of little consequence how I feel.

I recall when I was waiting on the Highway (long ago- or so it seems) and Jacques came to me. I was, alas, by then used to his company.
"How goes the hunt?" asked he.

To be continued. 

Shameless Self Promotion.

My novel Vampyre: Hunting the Moon and a collection of Gothic poetry entitled Alone in a Crowded Tomb are now available in kindle format on Amazon.
That is all. 

Flying in Darkened Vales.

When I look in her eyes,
I see no lies, no cruel  surprise,
Just a soul that flies,
In darkened vales of sadness,
Searching for some well earned goodness,
Soaring towards destined  happiness.

Once.

Once, long ago, in our own land, we were kings.

King of Mardale

There was a King Across the Water,
And a King down by the sea,
And a King upon an island,
Who King shall always be,
But the King of the fells
Lives only in memory,

Now Mardale valley is a lake
An Avalon with no Hand Above the Water,
No sword, no Lady Fairies Daughter,

Reaching from the reservoir
Just a lonely old church tower,
Monument  to the last King's power

The rugged mountains of the Lake District were, until the 18th Century, neglected by the British government to such an extent that the mighty people living there  functioned as  independent  Kingdoms.
The last King of Mardale died in 1885.
Mardale valley was destroyed to build a reservoir in 1935.
On a clear day, one can still see the church tower above the water. The bell still rings sometimes.

End of Days

At the end of days,
Will you still recall
The wind in the trees,
That silent breeze,
Or the ghostly light,
On the lake that night?
Will you still recall
That I loved you at all?

For Kitten.