Not of This World
In her veins ran faery blood,
And she always longed for more,
Than she could see in mortal realm,
So she opened up an inner door.
At first she kept the door propped open,
And her life would call her home,
From adventure in a savage land,
Of dangerous wild and mystical tome.
One night she met an Elvin rogue,
While gathering herbs by the moon,
And he gave to her an amulet,
Inscribed in stone with powerful rune.
At the door to mortal life, she stood,
And reading the rune aloud,
She smiled as she watched the door seal shut
Amidst an unnatural cloud.
She laughed in delight as the door dissolved,
And turned to her Elvin lover,
Entwining their souls, they rode to the woods,
Disappeared in its mystical cover.
Now her body lies still, wasted, and pale,
Behind walls of seamless, cold white,
But she wears on her face a secretive smile,
And her eyes are alive with inner delight.
While her life drips away midst tubes and machines,
Her spirit is free and unfurled,
Written in stone on her lonely grave,
She was not of this world.
Julie Shiel lives in Maryland with two very spoiled cats. Her work appears
in various magazines and anthologies including Flesh & Blood, Brutarian, Gothic.net, Aoife's Kiss, Champagne Shivers, EOTU, Side Show, Dust Devil,
Rogue Worlds and many others.
Her first poetry collection, titled Disturbed, is available through http://www.samsdotpublishing.com or on Project Pulp (http://www.blindside.net/smallpress/).
Visit Julie's web site.
Read other poems by Julie
The Wild Hunt
"Not of This World" Copyright © 2003 Julie Shiel. All rights
Published by permission of the author.
This page last updated 05-10-03.
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