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Enter Poem or Quote (Required) Nowhere now, Geinere awaited her day of unrightly judgment, her only hopes of victory brought thoughts of remorse and further difficulties for herself and her dying love. No embrace could be made. Her silence would remain, for accusations of such made, was sure death for thee. Her soul became fierce, conjuring redemption for this instillment, a fall from grace, her skillful prowess, her warrior bringing forth chaos. Lightning crashed as the tumults of her Goddess' vengeance squalled from the uproarious heavenly sky. "These leperous times of love's decay, porches of word, betrayed. May our devotion sate our divine qualm, a subtle devil delays, for biddings may take afar. Be it region my fate, due your rank and garb. For thee upon a graceful whim, perchance pray, your folly for your conceit and vindication. My reputation banished into the fathoms of a conceivable Hell, this lifetime. These thoughtless lusts, be it not perverse, unholy absolute!" Tears of silence beckoned the oncoming storm, a prelude to the saga of love made true, dire consequences of chaste and grim truth. - - - - The next morn. . . - - - - "Geinere, my new found love, your beauty and essence of the divine. Can'st be so familiar, for the task of royalty, a tragic array of misgivings found." Prince Alarumdives spoke ever-softly, akin to the King's arrogance, though ignorant of his wicked deeds, this past eve. "My Prince?" "What'st my father demand, for your saddened face, this morn?" "He has foresaken you my love, our marriage troubled, his grievances." "I see my love." "I am sorry if our unition burden your reputation, be it not true, for a taint crimson mine to yours and your own." "No Geinere, you know my love for you, the deepest perils of valor. You are my passion, my grace, my spirit's nestle. My love for you Geinere, the fullest, a garden of blossoming joy, yours and mine. Happiness take'st with thee, goodness and romance's virtue." "My Prince. . . ." Her eyes welling tears, her pain her bare." "My Geinere, tomorrow yours true, for thee to wed, our grace and passion fulfilled, the kingdom royal renewed." "Yes my Prince, pray our vows, not to become shrewd. May my Goddess, now Christom, strengthen my soul." "Geinere, what'st that troubles you, may I ask?" "I am at no mercy, let us parry this, yours made true, may your father's blessing bestowed not compromise a spiteful discourse. . . ."
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