SongCoyote

The light that dawns upon the eastern sky Antithesis of midnight's chestnut smoke Brings promises of warmth that may defy The shiver-sweet of shadow's gentle stroke For in deep winter, fear too oft holds sway Endurance ebbs when ice 'round heart enfolds Stiff lips, still minds restrained, comfort belay; Their soft, despairing conquest hope withholds Then slips past cloud a ray of promised light A silent song, once lost, now struggles back The sun returns, to banish shades of night The shackles of their chill begin to crack Take heart as silvered hope limns branch and field For Yule’s laugh demands the shadows yield

Sandy grinned at her own impulsiveness as she carried the strange book home, feeling mysteriously determined to decipher its meaning despite it being in a language she did not know. Its cover was butter-smooth brown leather that had been expertly carved to depict a forest scene: ferns growing under the spreading branches of trees, the moon peeking between them, and in the center the word FÄ. It was illustrated with naturalistic animals, smelled like a forest, and was heavier than it looked like it should be. Once she spread it out on her desk and called up a translator it hadn't taken her long to discover it was in Swedish and the cover said "Beast". Intrigued anew she started entering text from its pages, a mix of grumpiness and pleasure moving through her as she had to search for all the characters with umlauts and other marks. She hadn't got more than the first sentence entered when a sound came from the book: the rustling of leaves in a sudden breeze. Startled, she stared at it

Ancient eyes that see beyond the veil Razor claws that strike without a warning The sound of danger is no sound at all And the smell of blood still lingers in your step Flickering light shows little of your form As through the shadows' blade-sharp edge you roam Harbinger of tortured cries, you wait In perfect patience for the taste of flesh Your movements are unutterably sublime And every moment of your life seems poised Upon a mirror that reflects the lives That in their ending slaked your ceaseless thirst How have I come to fall beneath your gaze? What taint upon my soul has drawn you forth To end at last the torment of this life? I tremble at your footstep, fear's poor slave And yet you curl up winsomely at hand A thunderous sound rolls from you at my touch Your throat is bared to me, yet all I do Is stroke your softness, and pray you will not wake