Month: October 2022


My nightmares spoke vicious tales of love and loss. Tangled within long branches, my wings were trapped in fatal infatuations and unfulfilled mirages. Dripping with bitter sap, they stuck in glue, spread over the trees by goddess of Things That Must Go Wrong.

Why did the goddess release me?

Perhaps she was just fed up with the sight of a bleeding raven biting their tormented flesh to pull their heart out. A bird eating it’s own feathers. A hunter being hunted by their will to break from the cage made of familiar moss and flesh-gnawing thorns.

Maybe I am free. Maybe it’s an illusion, and it will start all over again, when I close and open my eyes.

Maybe the hell is sucking me in right now, and I am becoming one of its demons, eager to cause pain and bathe in sin.

Though. I want. To. Believe.

There is always a hope, that this forest before me is real. And I am just taking the first breath filled with the scent of pines.

Earth’s Veins

we are tangled in earth’s veins
they pulse inside our hearts
like stars made of soil and leaves

lighted from within
they feed us with whispers of the gods
and misty dreams of the morning woods

our flesh gleams with tears of the darkness
open wounds – healed with the touch of sacred blood
of those who hide in the night

of those who kiss with bared teeth
and embrace with oustretched talons

we are tangled in earth’s veins
green ichor flows under our skin
melting our nightmares, rebuilding our dreams

The Wolf

I fed the wolf that howled at night, scraping the door with sharps claws, eager to see the woods again, scared that it will never see the moon again. Trapped between yesterday and today, it couldn’t look in the tomorrow, or preferred to not look into the one, that was caged behind bars, with a bowl of food given once a day, and a collar made of leather, choking it.

I fed the wolf, who bared its teeth at the world, to not get wounded again. A beast of vengeance that still remembered the wrongs done twenty years ago, unable to forget, spreading the hurt over now. The wolf, who yearned for freedom, yet it was bound to wounds, which it got on the hunt done so long ago, that it blurred, leaving only ghastly image of blood and running prey.

I fed the wolf that replaced the two mouths on my shoulder. It became my angel and my demon, my bloodborn adviser and safety concealment.

Maybe I overfed it.

I still listen to it. It growls silently into my ear. But I know when it lies.

My Fenrir, a blood child of the trickster, never is truly honest with me. And when the past emerges, spilled by its maw just into my heart, I shut it with a tale of freedom, with song of the dark woods, when our home is.

The home, where we are heading, together. Where past doesn’t matter and where the future is shining like a night flower, in the wilderness where our blood binds with veins of the trees.

Burn, Doll, Burn

I don’t embrace a certain thing that happens every week in my sleeping brain. Every once in a while, I have dreams of Chucky the murder doll, dripping of meat and blood. It stopped even being disturbing – more curious. Why? I love Chucky and honestly, it started to amuse me how my brain wants to make me dislike it.

Oh brain. You have no idea what horrors I have seen. My own dear past is much worse than these tiny burned scraps. I will continue loving that foolish abomination of a doll, because…

you shall not pass. Simply. And to the point. Haha.


I went through gale and rain. I went through fire and burning sun. I went through scorching heaven and iced hell.

I now breathe but my lungs are filled with sand. It will take time until my sethian throat clears from the desert.

Now… I do nothing. Every muscle hurts, my mind screams. Nerves open like night flowers. Eyes shut to not see the day.


I have odd affinity for characters in fiction, who are little sneaky meow meows, with no redeeming qualities, with kill-count, and backstab-count, and who would ashame the creator of sin, in how lovable they really seem.

Kiss or Kill? No one knows!


Chamberlain skekSil, the king of liars. My, if he isn’t my first place poor meow meow of them all. I loved him as a child and love him now, even if I would hunt his twisted soul down and teach him what truth is :3

Ah, A-Yao, the backstabber supreme. He is such a charming, delicate person, who seems too good for this world. But hell, if he isn’t dark as heck. And he will make you trust him, and then, he just throws you off the cliff. Srsly.


So… I have weak spot for such characters, and they grind my brain every day and every night.

Please help…



“You Shall NOT Pass!”

I should tattoo it on my arm and/or hang on my wall as a written print. My life circles around this sentence. My heart is a resistance fighter and probably always be.