Hmm, I can only apologise that there's no violence or death or bloodshed
in this at all. But perhaps a little truth which, like wood, is fast
becoming short supply!

When did I notice my heart skip a beat,
My mouth feel hot and dry,
Your eyes of stormy skies,

Idle breezes sigh, with hidden meaning,
No meeting; only destiny seeming,
To remind me, that I'm dreaming,

Empty minds drifts unerringly toward,
That face where you are moored,
Upon unwitting rocks allured.

Vanilla skies and endless days,
E'en roses fade, why didn't you say,
Instead to let her drift away.

Another unrequited prologue closed,
Amidst the dying ember glows,
Remains of now ... but fantasy prose.

Now Bladesinger, Delgarth T. hoping you didn't find that rhyming as
terrible as he did *laugh*

Penned by my hand on the 20th of Glacian, in the year 389 AF.