Tunnels of Light

  Dreams of Night   By JessicaRae   Walking through a darkness with silent, aching heart. His hands clenched in turmoil o’er what time had torn apart.   Who gave fate the audacity to mold and shape a life? She’d dreamed he was her husband. He’d dreamed she was his wife.   But eyes then opened to stillness, and loneliness laughing, bold. He’s found the blanket bundled up, just something sleep brought him to hold.   He tossed it hence with a vengeful snarl, his eyes, they closed in wrath. Even fate’s cruel hand could not be so wrong as to stand within their path.   Oh, but it did, the fiend, so black as death and whispered clawing words of taunt. “What if” “If only” “Maybe someday” Words as ghosts, his mind, did haunt.   He opened brimming eyes to find the room filled with amber light, It chased away the gloom of dreams, and silenced the burning night.   A chance glance upon the rose, still, outlined with gentle grace, The light within reache

  Within the Lion, A Man by JessicaRae Within lay fears and dreams and songs, Buried beneath sorrows, deaths, and wrongs, Within lay worries for those he loved, Some lived Below. One lived Above. Within lay hopes and wishes and joys, The yearn of men, the conquest of boys. The prize of a woman's love to claim. He smiled when he spoke or thought her name. Within lay tears and weeping and gloom, Enclosing his heart like an ancient tomb. He felt he would never gain nor win her hand His heart says he has to try, His mind tells him he can't. Within lay visions, and claims of desires, Sending his heart soaring like a seasonal fire. He swore to win and cherish his bride. Though outwardly a lion There was a man inside. Photo courtesy of Google Search

Why They Called Him Father by JessicaRae  He carried the weight of the entire tunnel community upon his own shoulders. Father to young and old alike, Jacob wasn't your normal leader of the flock. He was a medical doctor, much to his own dismay some times, as plague and disease reminded him of how weak he really was. All of his medical knowledge couldn't save everyone. But he sure was gonna try if it was the last thing he did. He cared for the community with such concern that everyone Below began to call him Father. Steady as a beating Cherokee drum, With a sure stance and firm portrayal Of all of the dreams he carried deep inside, To his own flock so true, so faithful. With a gaze so stern and quite abrupt, He worked and slaved for Below, With the care and concern of the sages, Using all the facts that he knows. To heal whenever he was able, The hurts of the family he created. He would shelter, lead, and easily hide them, Changing what life to them fated. Most were outcasts, ju

 Though Lovers Be Lost by JessicaRae Through pain, they share joy. Through loss, they share tears. Through denial, they share dreams. Through the medium of alternate time and reality, they can wish and they can hope for as long as the earth stands. No one can understand the depth of their longing, the pain of their suffering, and the betrayal of the lives they live after dawn. Living as though actors in a play during the hustle of the commoners, and coming together in the culmination of dreams at the setting of the earths light. This is what it means to love in dreams. To love in secret. To love in pain. Oh that the earth would just stand still, and all lovers unite for the barest moment in time, to have and hold and dream again. Unfair is time, as it rips apart the wishes of those it governs. Pushing and driving those that covet its excess, Time is the slavemaster of all. They can only grasp what moments it allows, and cherish and fuel their desires with them. They are connected by th

  My Light is a Piece of Yours by JessicaRae Vincent's musings upon the passing of Father... Our lives moved in tandem as the parts of a loom. Ever weaving, ever winding, until there is no way to divide them. When there was a need for a word of encouragement, you were there. You and I were best of friends. You walked a simple, quiet path, and called others to the same. You gave of all you had and more, to bless people. When someone needed a hand you were the first one to offer. Ever gentle, but ever wise. The world overlooked the glory of having you in it's time. You were unaware of its loss, as you thought you were not much anyway. Oh how wrong one can be when left to their own thoughts. You were a strong pillar to us. There, present, when the candle of your life was darkened, I wept. Not for you, for you were resting, but for me, for I was lost. Without that guiding hand, that light that was within you. How will I find my way from here? When once my broken heart stilled, and

His Voice Brought Her Home  by JessicaRae There was something about his voice that brought her to her senses. A voice that in turmoil could offer strength, and in weakness, offer peace. Her days Above were full of running to and fro, leads, dead ends, and a desire to somehow right all the wrongs that the city was capable of enduring. When she reached her apartment after a difficult day of not being enough, his voice reminded her that she was loved and cherished by him alone, and that was truly all that mattered. When she felt as if every ounce of strength was drained from her body and the night would be too long before dawn arose again, his voice reminded her that she was strong. When she grieved the loss of those that she had loved, and those that she had failed to save, his voice reminded her that she would be happy again. When she was lost in the hope of a future, but shackled by the restraints of the present, his voice reminded her that they would somehow make it through. When she

 Forever Had Given Her Call by JessicaRae It came as a train on a dark Brooklyn night, The whisper of spirits and fear It called with a voice that one could not help but obey, They all felt death take Father from here. There was no cry of "Intruders below!" No battle plans drawn on the desk. Perhaps the most sad thing they all could recall, Was death picked of all them- the best. For Father was resting in the dimly lit room, his chamber had not been seen by all What would become of his family below, now that forever had given her call? The magic that once ran through the tunnels below, Was stilled in a moment of time. The dreams would be somehow kept dreaming and happy By those that deaths curse left behind. They would try to keep going, Hard as it was, For a dream is as real as its fans. The ones below that cared with a soul deep inside, Would keep dreaming as hard as they can. Just like old times the great Winterfest gates, Would open and the candles would alight. And when

Down to Below by Jessica Rae Vincent walked slowly along the dark alley, keeping his black cloak wrapped close and his hood carefully covering his distinctive features. A broad-shouldered, tall figure, he walked with a certain stride in his step. He traveled as one ready to leap into hiding at the appearance of passers-by, or the headlights of a passing car. Wary, and almost catlike was his tread, and it was this caution that enabled him to walk upon the scene in the next alley without being noticed. His sixth sense felt the presence of someone in trouble, although he had not yet heard any sound. Sensing a dire need to be cautious, he crouched down and ducked behind a nearby garbage can, to remain out of sight as he kept moving toward the quiet intersection of the street. Noiseless footsteps carried him around the corner of the building beside him, and he stood motionless in shock at the sight that he discovered. Stretched out full length on the dark asphalt was a middle-aged man, stri