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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Rain waited for Bjorg to return, never gone long. He was a strange one, forgetting herself aptly. She couldn’t think of herself other than human, although she had never met anyone like she. Her father seemed to understand her somewhat. He had died almost five thousand years before. She knew that she could foresee the future, but in the deep recesses, she couldn’t see her death. She could feel no pain, though it mattered little. Nothing could harm her, so she dismissed threats. She didn’t live in the past, why she was as she was. She never wondered if she could ever change. Only lately the dreams returned, dreamt in the four thousand year sleep which Bjorg interrupted. It had been two glorious years since he woke her from sound sleep, hidden in the caverns of souls. She had never told him how long she was there. Even she did not know her past beyond this world. She knew how wicked it was and how many times she had destroyed it and left the way open to renew. Now the federation was arming to hold peace. Old lessons had not taught the valid point. She knew the instant she would have to destroy the world and Bjorg was standing in the way. She could not by Heavenly law reveal her face, that she was endowed to know the deadly hour, when she would chariot as the Angel of Death, through the skies by her two mighty white horses. 16 Dec 2010 Charles Henderson For Rambling Poet's "Rain, the Story" contest
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