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And tonight I ache with an undefined longing , but we are poets my love, we do not cry, we bleed on paper. Here are poems and prose of thoughts that plague my my mind, I have written of the moons and stars, of the nights and days, of leather bound books with a dusky smell, of blood dripping ruby hilted ceremonial daggers. These are my wildest thoughts and my deepest desires.

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A poem to be sung around campfires among warriors,among children ,among every citizen of Erilea as they recall the Queen of Terassan, the Heir of Mala, the Heir of Brannon,Aelin Ashryver Galanthynius.Poems of valour of the Wing Leader and The Thirteen

She was no swift burning spark. She was a flame,A force to be dreaded.She was a torch against the night.If only she dared.This is a story of a woman from whom this cruel world took everything.But they could not take one thing.Her soul.