Inner Dark Woods II: Moon Priestess

¿Dónde están nuestros hijos ahora?
¿Qué viento los barrió?
¿Dónde nuestros maizales de oro?,
meciéndose en el sol.


¿Que fue de nuestras huacas sagradas?
¿Qué fue de nuestra paz?
lloro por Titicaca y la luz amada
del Pachacamac. 

Taki Ongoy

She seems to find the quietly wind almost delightful, i think. At least, that's what she demostrate standing there, beneath the tombstone, that black and beautiful wall with all the names carved in. It's really interesting to observate right now, while the storm begins to fall upon us.
She moves a little bit. My eyes are closed, but my sight has reached it's limit a long time ago, so i can see her in a little, very little way. Her movement allows her to almost touch me, but she only bounces like a windflower, over such a taste... a taste that begins to move around my toungue, my lips and all my throat.
I open my eyes to see her. She is still there, like a part of the tombstone, like a very beautiful statue, but so cold and alive at the sime time... it's very, very interesting to see her.
A lightning bolt hit the Tombstone, but she doesn't move. Something begins to enervate inside my chest, like an animal, touching every rib and ascending around my neck, my throat and my mouth. Like an animal, i fall onto my knees, and my eyes begin to stretch inside me. What the heck is happening right now? I can feel all my muscles with such a great and powerfull force... a force that isn't mine, a force not of my own, but of that ... thing that's possesing me.

The Storm explodes it's anger, and so i do. Grabbing my head with my hands (wich are so tense now, and scratch my skin a bit) i shout a name... a name that i actually don't know what it means. A name with four silabes. I shout with a voice that isn't mine.

She, for the first time, begins to move. Easily, slowly, she confronts me. Her face could be a statue's Face, sculped with such beautiful factions... almost like a Tomb's Angel. Her eyes, her huge and stunning eyes begin to open and her lovely crystal-like eyes smite me. My muscles begin to relax a bit, but the Storms is in its climax, and i feel a call from beyond all that. An ancester Call, a Call that makes my blood boils and my skin to itch. A hunger call.
She puts a finger in her lips, indicating silence, and then that finger is although on my lips. She smiles like the girl she is. She is more than that, and less. She is that Storm, and the Tombstone... all this things that cross my mind are very confusing and annoying.

She begins to sing a little, lesser song, with a girl's voice. An Angel voice.

"The Moon, she hangs like a cruel portrait
soft winds whisper the bidding of trees
as this tragedy starts with a shattered glass heart
and the Midnightmare trampling of dreams
But on, no tears please
Fear and pain may accompany Death
But it is desire that shepherds it's certainty
as We shall see..."

Another thunder rips the sky apart, she silently gets up. She takes my face with soft ans gently fingers, indicating me to lift up. When i obey her, she gets close to me... so close that i can actually feel the cold of her skin, a Stone-like cold that makes me shiver and shake... something's wrong here, something's not right.
She gets close and kiss me on my very lips, while i see the world turn black. I dream of a figure, not quite sure a humen, but a figure that scapes from me in that horrible and beautiful inner dark woods, that forest of dead black trees and that filed of sterile grass. That figure seems to look like the Priestess... but there's something wrong.
I catch the figure, and i begin to feel the cold again; but this time, the anger of the Storm joins the party and makes the heat in my chest awake and shout. I'm like a beast, and she is like an ice princess. She is unreachable... and yet, quite fragile and unsstable.

I grab her, and gave her all my warm hugh, chocking her cold snow-like breath.
I see her face, she's scared.
I see that she's not thankful for that hugh.
I look into her eyes, and finish the job with another Kiss in her cold, frozen beautiful lips.



I awake a long before, with the storm passed and the sky black as the darkest well in the world. The stars are looking at us, and all the fight's over... 'couse we two are sleeping under the same travel cloak.
She seems a very young and beautiful old girl, a frozen lady... and i...

I am the Old One.
I should have perish.


Looking at the stars and begining to feel hunger, i stretch myself. The tombstone is there, a few meters from us, standing still as it always have been.



That tombstone has something to do with this...










Primer texto en inglés que escribo. No lo revisé, pero debe tener un par de errores... y debo ser muy redundante. Además de los tiempos >_>