&broken

[+Hidden+]

.Remember when I moved in you;
the holy dark was moving too,
and every breath we drew
was Hallelujah.

Oh, if one could hear the sweet callings of death, have the cries whisper into their auds and take over their minds. It would be so simple to give in, let the darkness take hold of one`s senses, drown in the overwhelmingly pleasant cloud of distorted emotions. No mortal horse could boast the experience, though many had come close. Some feared the moment when life drained from mind, and others had a morbid fascination, and still others, lived in death. These equines could be called the devils of the living, the immortal hellish creatures that graced the earth during their mortal lifetime. One such mare had come into the lands; purposeful and deadly. Elegant bod, Lusitano lines, graceful head and sturdy back, well enough features, put together in the form of the malevolent vixen whose smooth canter brought her through the tree line. Expression at first appeared innocent, like the spring breeze, or the autumn leaves, but one look into those cold hard, amber optics, and one would swear they had been to hell. She was built for speed, and yet her gait was relaxed, and at the moment rather slow. The vixen surmised it gave her a rather deceiving look, for who would fear those whose steps sang a quiet, subdued lullaby. At first glance, she was a queen, a dancer, someone to be envied for sheer beauty, second glance claimed the quick wit and merciless savage force she could exert upon any given subject within a moment. Sturdy and hateful, the mare was not an equine most would hope to cross. Ground beneath the femme started and rolled under her ebon hooves as if turned by a switch, her long pillars extended into a faster paced canter, that ate up the tender earth and wrecked havoc upon the tender roots of the grasses. A alluring dove tainted black by the wickedness of her scarred heart, ripped apart by the immoralities of the world, sewn together again by the trembling hand of vile wretchedness, kissed by the seal of death and grief. A dappled gray ran down her pelt, the only light hue upon her flawless soul. Her eyes caught the darkness of her spirit and threw back the fire offered by the pale moon.

Mare may be the perfect example of beauty and grace, kissed by the wind past dark onyx tresses, shadowed by the rising moon behind her frame. Four pillars, long and lithe, extend into a well balanced gallop, stride full and powerful, muscles showing through dapple gray pelt, sweat fermenting her curved bodice. Serpentine arched in a graceful arc, dark optics, lifeless and endless, filled with an energy straight from the soul, stared ahead, toward a destination unknown. The air pulled into healthy lungs, crimson heart filled with adrenaline and putrid hate, festering in the cuts that weathered her eroding heart, blackened to the core, thought to be unable to feel. Proud, strong hooves, painted ebon to the darkest degree, pounded the ground without remorse, leaving chunks of delicate earth flying behind her mottled frame. Frame, bulk and muscle, grace and charm, lunged agilely over a three foot high fallen log, sparing a foot, landing with delicately placed, but intricately thought out steps, faltered for at tenth of a second, before the femme was off once more, powerful hindquarters propelling her forward.

Dial twisted, as she continued on, seeking to call upon the sky, but then fluttered past, into the expansive lands. Muscles churned in a well framed bod, and as she stopped, it seemed as if the moon itself had come to collect her soul, bathing her in a ghoulish white light. Vixen stood still for a moment, the only movement that of her tresses as they were brushed by the slight midnight breeze. From deep within her voice box, came a scream so piercing it could wake the soul of the dead, and then lull them back to sleep with its melodic tone and sweet hint, so innocent, and yet so lethal. And then it stopped, the ending note so chillingly simple, and so right.

Auds flickered toward the sudden silence, breathed the scent of undetectable, watched the world of the blind. Banner punished strong flanks with whip like strokes, the sound lost within her own being. Evening hath arrived, the time that led to her favorite of the day, midnight, where the shadows bled, the lovers cried, and the feel of a breath was lost within the pitch blackness. Violence and wounds, false identity and cruel intentions bound her soul. War and battles, though a major part, did not control her whole life. Seductive words and mind games often befell the poor who came in contact with the devil`s demoness. Angels wings and Satan`s things, the mare was anything but sweet and loving. Sooner take a life than breath a whisper, rather fight than flee, rather take than give. The moment the notion of joining a herd had entered the vixen`s mind, she knew it was merely a notion and nothing more. To feel the confines of another`s rule was vulgar to her spirit and she would not have it, unless, of course, she were to receive something in return. Something worthwhile. Nothing so far had tempted the unbreakable will of the cursed femme, and if she could have it her way, nothing would. Contact with another had always peaked the interest of the darkened female, and yet she tended to stray far from it, observed the interaction between others with a sadistic eye. Flesh crawled with anticipation, sweet desire and tainted feelings. How much fun she had when she allowed herself to fall into patterns of conversation, words twisted to her liking, meanings bent and crossed, contradictions and blunt expressions. A tangled web to be woven, dark iris`s searched through the hazy dark for the figure that would claim ownership to the presence that whispered down her spine and wrapped around her senses.

As she awaited the arrival of whoever may come, her amber hues lit the darkness with a light that was not so bright themselves, in nature or physics. She was here to cause havoc and wreak whatever she might be able to, heart or life. The vixen was definitely the devil`s child, her ways often befalling the darkest of them all. But she couldn`t brag, because, after all, was it she who chose to be this way ? Some say yes, others no. The song she had sung, up to the moonlit sky. It had been the sweet melody of a Broken Hallelujah.

And its not a cry you can hear at night,
it`s not somebody who's seen the light,
its a cold and its a broken Hallelujah.

occ+anyone relpying does not have to post as long as i did. ^^ hehe. i got carried away.+

[[ k o i ]]

<sub>ah, so i see you are another to break the hearts of others...

pinions flickered as he advanced farther into the vacant terrain, lithe bits of precipitation had begin to fall, as winter had begun to over take the fall season, duos rotated, waiting to catch any bit of volume hidden within the terrain.
russet chassie, now more of a hazel color with his winter liner, became farther and farther enveloped among this terrain, aigrette softly kissed his bow with the rocking movement his serene duo-beat gait he presented himself with.

the war inside me could subside if you told me everything would be alright.
there is nothing to hide but my emotions,
other than that, all is cloaked.

slowly, the snow subsided, leaving but a soft blanket upon the dead terrain, his back, had also been blanketed, soft steps brought the beast closer to what the terrain had concealed, discs made slightly inept patterns among the snow laden acquaint.
duos did twitch slightly, as he had heard a short rustle among the veil of naked trees that stood at the base of the terrain, torso rocked violently to and fro, slightly ridding himself of the coverlet of frozen crystals.

i want you to be my everything,
you are my universe,
so dont' tell me otherwise.

bante hung easily at his hocks, the cocoa beast had come to a halt aloft the steppe, lenses grazed that of another, one whom had been wandering amongst the latest hour, midnight.
the she, probably unknowing of him here, moved with grace, elegance was mixed in upon there somewhere also, lenses traced her brawny form, easily, his lenses followed.

my paradise is lost without you,
my love is compressed,
my life is ruined.

iridecent globe peeked in and out of a murky cloud, casting eerie shadows among the almost vacant terrain, no noises could be heard, unless you were persicely searching for one destinctive sound.
pinions now began inching forth churning the freshly laid snow, bits of dead grass and earthen now lay upon the surface, leaving a mixture of earthen and precipitation, slow breaths emit from him, leaving frosted bit of silver dancing among his muzzle.

i watch you from afar,
though as unknowing as you are,
i hope you will never find me.

dome lowered as neb searched moments for her aroma, though that was slightly impossible, for the midnights snow had concealed everything, including any aromas that had been lingering among the moonlight.
once his dome did arise again, a low grunt emitted, just barely audible, but there, duos flickered to and fro with slight precaution, letting the mute sounds of the eventide trickle in.

you sing so lovely,
though my heart tells you differently,
i can only hear the melody of your broken hallelujah.

there he stood, aloof and still, lenses still watched he silently, nothing was said, nothing was heard, all was like it should be.
and again, pure darkness fell over the terrain as a cloud enveloped unto the milky globe, this is the end of her broken hallelujah.

drown my will to fly.</sub>

[+Hidden+]

Stilled frame, unmoving as if playing a waiting game with silence, trembled in the cold, a tremor running down the length of her spine, falling down to her hocks, through her chest and up to her auds. The shiver was not of weakness. Not by far. It was the anticipation of something great, of something she could not yet comprehend, and still would not be able to with all the intellect in the entire earth. Banner lashed protectively against her flanks, her dappled color blending oh so nicely with the snow, the surroundings, but left her stranded against the night. The blackness of the sky endless, and to her the perfect example of harmony. With what ? She had no clue. But an example it was, and nothing would persuade her otherwise.

A snort left her delicate maw, her energy pent up inside, wanting desperately to be released in a hellish fashion to inspire dread within the light and respect of the dark. And she was perfectly capable of that. More than capable. As her actions previously in other herd lands had proved quite mercilessly. A quick jerk of her neck brought her neck down to sniff the snow, taking in it`s innocence which she, regrettably, could not taint herself. Pink salmon color lapped it up, curling around the moisture and swallowing it, the bitterness something she could enjoy as it slid down her throat, sending a shiver, which did not surface, through her whole bod.

The cry of a night owl, holed up in it`s nest by the snow, pierced the night air, which she gladly shrieked after, her voice lost among the echos. She was aching for some mischief, but she still appeared calm. Her sculpted bod perfectly framed by the pale moonlight, her dappled spots giving her an advantage against the snow. Her heart beat in her rib cage, now was the only movement as she stilled, a hushed silence now hanging upon her every limb and manifesting it`s cold growth as anticipation.

One rapidly calm pace, a pounding of beats tainted by the devil, caressed by the hold and expenditure of her rib cage, held safe and quiet, so no else could hear but her own auds. Still, in the darkness, she heard the faintest sound. Nothing more than a whisper upon the wind, and without any scents made available to herself, she could not be sure exactly what it was, though her unknowing did not stop a cruel smirk from presenting on her calm dappled face. Sharp ebony plume hung at her hocks, now raised and thrashed. Cold, calculating, merciless optics, amber in hue, peered through the darkness, her expression calm, toward the brute, though she could not make him out, and knew not who was there.

[[ k o i ]]

once upon a midnight dreary...

duos flickered as volume suddenly trickled over the once silent terrain, precipitation had subdued, leaving only but bits of it dancing merely unto the rest that had fallen, lenses flickered to the she again, for her vocals had called out.
disc's wove their way in and out of the snow, deep hoof-prints let others know where he had been, pinions worked easily at a four-beat gait, a walk.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore-
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
Tis some visitor, I muttered, tapping at my chamber door--Only this and nothing more.

dome snaked out before russet chassie as the stallion worked his way over the terrain, now blanketed with snow, duos flickered hesitantly as he felt her stare upon his back, lenses trickled over the terrain, slightly resting upon her.
and again, the stallion halted, he heard her emit a snort, he, in response to this emitted another wuffling sound.

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;-vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow-sorrow for the lost Lenore-
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
Nameless here for evermore.

she, taking the advantage of being placid, blended well with the snow, lenses kept to her though, for he would not loose her among this snowy eve.
bante warmly invited his hocks, as they kissed them with each step, duos flickered yet again, now the volume was dying, like that of embers in a fire, silence was again, taking over.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, Lenore?
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, Lenore!--
Merely this and nothing more.

the russet stayed halted for moments upon moments before pinions brought him to a walk again, dome, now regally held atop bow, seek-ed that of another, neb flared heavily as he stood there, his shadow casted among pearly snow -turned an eerie blue in the moon-light- danced with the slight turbulent the terrain had to offer.
knowing of the she concealed among the snow laden terrain he dropped his dome, and started again, just him and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my sour within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping something louder than before.
Surely, said I, surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is and this mystery explore--
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;--
'Tis the wind and nothing more.

pinions had brought him some distance before he was now among the center of the terrain, he hoped, just somewhere the contessa would be hiding among the bare trees that brought the outskirts up.
another short sound emitted from the stallion, twas that of a snort, he had entered among the terrain, concealed within, vocals bubbled within him, a low wicker racked that of his inside.

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he,
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door--
Perched upon a bust of Paellas just above my chamber door-
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

and yet again, he felt her lenses penetrate upon his brood back, dome swung to trace where her lenses might hide, though she stayed hidden, weather it be because of shadows or her mere color, he could not seem to find her.

Then the ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
Though thy crest be shown and shaven, thou, I said, art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore--
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonium shore!
Quoth the Raven, Nevermore.

Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning--little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door--
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as Nevermore.

only you and nothing more.