Linda M. Crate writes

 burning vampires

you've drunk too much of my blood

for me to forgive you

i will set fire to your bones

until all the life

is lost

maybe the old me would pity you,

but this new me

remembers the valkyrie warrior that i was

born to be

savior to all the dreamers and every thing full of light;

you are darkness and death's child

singing lyrics of both

i will shatter your blue eyed winter dreams

burn away all your nightmares

until no vampire will walk the night without fear

because i refuse to accept your presence

as much as you have mine

you made a mistake when you broke this heart

because this heart will break you and all your masks

i won't be degraded by the ghost of your name

take back all your pomegranates

my forests of light

cannot take the bitter fruits of your tongue

i have no need for snakes or sneaks

you're both.

Linda M. Crate writes

made to shine

beneath the rolling tide

i buried my heartache and my pride

just recognized

that i was but a moment scripted into song

my lyric and my heart

have been weather beaten but never torn apart

every sorrow

becomes an artform of my dance

twisting raw coal into diamond and i will cut the glass

of any who think to steal away

my dreams

because my heart is mine and mine alone

so many people have tried to shatter my light,

but i refuse to accept the darkness

as a home

or be the monster they've been to me;

i will aspire to reach and burn brighter than they will ever know

because i want more than a simple life where i forget

who i am

becoming but a breath of vapor

without dreams, without hope, without conscience, without soul;

i have an immortal flame

that i will never allow to die because i know

i was made to shine.

Coal Into Diamonds -- Abbey Esparza

Linda M. Crate writes

i will be free 

my heart is a savage garden: you will not get out of here alive, and i know that you think me soft and weak—is this not why you called me a chickadee and insisted that i have no temper? but i am the daughter of the moon, you ought have known my ancient waters were more than capable of eroding you as well as my immortal flames; i will not falter in my steps—your nightmares are a trangression this world will not forget and so i dub thee forgiven, but there is a price to pay; so i am burning you along with your nightmares until not even void will sing remembrance to your name—you can call out to any god or goddess of death to save you, but where i am sending you, you will not be heard; you should be careful for what you wish for—sometimes you get exactly what you want, and you wanted me to be a part of your nightmare; isn't that why you splintered me with your darkness? you can take it back, but feel the fangs of my darkest wolves; they've been starved of your blood so long that they refuse to remain caged because like any wild thing i will be free—my wings were made to fly.

 

 Lamia 1 & 2 -- John William Waterhouse