Fionnabhair (Fair Spirit- White Lady)- O. R. Melling

O Lady, if thou comest to my proud people,
'Tis a golden crown shall circle thy head,
Thoushalt dwell by the sweet streams of
my country,
And drink mead & wine in the arms of
thy lover.

The Wyrd of the White Lady-the hunter's moon- O. R. Melling

Be fleet of foot,
O fair Hunted One,
From the dark of the shadow
Across the clear sun.

Like a deer on the plain,
Like a trout in the stream,
Take flight from life's bane,
To the Land of the Dream.

Come to the Sidhe-mound under the hill,
Come to the Country ruled by my will.

The Stolen Child - W. B. Yeats

Come away, O human child!
To the waters & the wild
With a farey, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping
than you can understand.

Revenge By Letitia Elizabeth Landon

                Ay, gaze upon her rose-wreathed hair,

And gaze upon her smile;

Seem as you drank the very air

Her breath perfumed the while:

And wake for her the gifted line,

That wild and witching lay,

And swear your heart is as a shrine,

That only owns her sway.

’Tis well: I am revenged at last,—

 Mark you that scornful cheek,—

 The eye averted as you pass’d,

 Spoke more than words could speak.

Ay, now by all the bitter tears

That I have shed for thee,—

The racking doubts, the burning fears,—

Avenged they well may be—

By the nights pass’d in sleepless care,

The days of endless woe;

All that you taught my heart to bear,

All that yourself will know.

I would not wish to see you laid

Within an early tomb;

I should forget how you betray’d,

And only weep your doom:

But this is fitting punishment,

To live and love in vain,—

Oh my wrung heart, be thou content,

And feed upon his pain.

Go thou and watch her lightest sigh,—

Thine own it will not be;

And bask beneath her sunny eye,—

It will not turn on thee.

’Tis well: the rack, the chain, the wheel,

Far better hadst thou proved;

Ev’n I could almost pity feel,

For thou art nor beloved.

A Dream Within A Dream By Edgar Allan Poe

Take this kiss upon the brow!

And, in parting from you now,

Thus much let me avow —

You are not wrong, who deem

That my days have been a dream;

Yet if hope has flown away

In a night, or in a day,

In a vision, or in none,

Is it therefore the less gone? 

All that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar

Of a surf-tormented shore,

And I hold within my hand

Grains of the golden sand —

How few! Yet how they creep

Through my fingers to the deep,

While I weep — while I weep!

O God! Can I not grasp

Them with a tighter clasp?

O God! can I not save

One from the pitiless wave?

Is all that we see or seem

But a dream within a dream?

Life is a Game

Yah, that's right. Life is only a GAME peoples. No one really has ever come up with an explination till now and that's because well, I just figured it made more sence then anything. I mean think about it for a second. We try to survive, and all the while, we think we're all gonna have to see the apocolips. But has anyone EVER had to really go through one? I mean hell, if God really wanted to get rid of the human race, he'd only have to push the RESTART BUTTON and then everthing would get cleared and things would start over from the very begining. Dosn't that sound about right? Anyways, just saying that no matter what happenes, it's all because we are the characters in a game that God's playing and when he gets bored of this file, he'll delete it and start a new one. Till then, just go with the flow and try to enjoy the ride.

Fire And Ice By Robert Frost

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I’ve tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.

Facing Hell

Fire fire burning bright,
Tis the Devil's opening gates in sight.
Flee flee for thou shall burn,
The Devil himself is very stern.
Doors closing, everyone screaming,
Looks like thee is stuck here.
Face thy fears,
Over come thee tears.
Make thou's way through,
Virgil will help thee too.
Dante made it to the end,
Yee will do so too.

No Escape

Fire fire burning bright.
Tis the Devil's opening gates!
Flee flee, for thou shall burn.
The water is cool,
Tis the safety of thy Lord.
Run, RUN!
Thy beast is upon thee!
The shadows creep onto thee,
No where to run...
No where to hide...