An Elemental Haven's Journal (original) (raw)

Fire	[03 Jun 2004|07:48am]
[ **mood** | creative ] _-->They don't have to make sense or follow a pattern nor any distinguishable grammatical structure. They are merely thoughts, "tied to a horse that will never tire", that stemmed from an original theme. This theme happens to be Fire, elaborated on through subcategories._wild: day of rage, day of trial, day of vengeance. The angry sweltering heat steals away life, pulling in its victim. Trickery, torment and distress. Warm colors; reds and oranges, and the yellow of a solar fury; the sun's punishing rays in rising steam of industrial death. Having the power of destruction, the power of rebirth, of fertility and lust.candle: the flame of knowledge and wisdom. A spirit sleeps in the fire, waiting. Let me ponder as a monk or a wanderer, or even as I am: a soul in need. Stare with questions into a flicker that keeps its secrets. Give me calm. You shall yield to me one more time before I die.campfire: Keep us alive! Keep our blood warm, our hearts pulsing, and our spirits healthy. My prayer to you, my final plea shall be: do not surrender us to the night; the death that lies beyond your warming boundry, but keep us close to your bosom as a mother nestles her child... for we need you now, as we have never needed anything. Let not the cold take us to the underworld.
invoke the wind

Wind	[03 Jun 2004|07:21am]
[ **mood** | creative ] _-->They don't have to make sense or follow a pattern nor any distinguishable grammatical structure. They are merely thoughts, "tied to a horse that will never tire", that stemmed from an original theme. This theme happens to be Water, elaborated on through subcategories._night wind: the night is dark, silent, and apprehensive--until the wind comes. Like a hissing snake it cycles by my window, screaming in terror of its own power, unsure of its destination. I doubt it even cares, for it is wild with madness as it tears through the night, all the while hissing in the ears of those it passes. It drives me back to my bed, my eyes pressed tightly with tears as I try to escape the madness. Only sleep can let me escape, but I cannot attain that state of mindless rest while the noise persists.desert wind: the soft grains of sand surrender to it as it passes, giving in to its stronger hand. The wind blows with the sand in symbiosis, being its guide to a new, uncharted place.gale: it frightens me like no other. viciously and mercilessly tears limbs from the trees where they were raised. It is relentless; the hand of Harcadia who wishes to bring more lives down into its void. The seas rock with the sweeping winds who yearn to devour everything. But what will be left for it to feed on once its task is finally complete? Will it die itself? Or will it realize its own hopelessness and retreat back to the stars; the calm between the storms.breeze: the voice of the earthen mother. I find comfort in the cresting cold; whispering air sweeps by me, cooling my skin and relieving me of life's pain. Its touch is cooling reassurance of the Element of Earth.
invoke the wind

Water	[03 Jun 2004|07:18am]
[ **mood** | creative ] _-->They don't have to make sense or follow a pattern nor any distinguishable grammatical structure. They are merely thoughts, "tied to a horse that will never tire", that stemmed from an original theme. This theme happens to be Water, elaborated on through subcategories._river: peacefully inviting. Serenity as the cool waters flow with their anonymity and idle grace. Letting the old and unclean liquid pass, replacing it with new clear waters of life and freshness. Crystal waterfall flushes a deluge to immerse us in gushing cold waters from a seaworld of fruit and rain sensations, purifying my body and thoughts. I'm being swept far from here in the gentle sway--far into the distance.(1) ocean: the ocean's waves rush back and forth, the madness rising. The wind drags the waves across their own surface, rushing against each other in anger. The salt gives life and purpose to the water; undying murky liquid. My mother, the goddess of the waters. claustrophobia. Let me rush to the ground before I am consumed forever beneath the fury and its minions....(2) ocean: calming, from the beach. the tide rises and it falls, again repeating its rhythmic peace. The waves ride the wind to the shore, where for an instant they can attain the land they have been wanting, aching, yearning to attain for so long, but then as always to be pulled back and recede into the ocean once more. It is torture to let them carry on so; the wind is their slave driver.ice: it covers everything. Look around, and ice completely encases the vegetation, making them sag with the weight of their oppression. The heat will not come to let them out for another three months; until then, they are made to suffer. I try to escape but it covers my path. Where can I go without knowing the way? Everything is crystalline; there is no color to behold. My eyes go blind.rain: fall from the sky to give life; replenish. You are the earthen mother's hand. When she has mercy on the world's thirst she gifts her nourishment; pours over me and makes me smile, for the wet soaks through my clothing and to my skin, and I feel its cold giving me innerwarmth. there is no wind, only the rain-- a spokesman for its Element. Throw my arms out and let my head fall back to face the sky... to accept the gift.stagnant: the symbol of death. black, bearing in its depths atrocities unknown. Corpses deck its perimeter; for all who lived in thirst desperately enough to dare drink from its waters were stricken with plague. It is Harcadia; the void of life. The grass around its rim has long since turned brown and sickly. The birds no longer chirp, nor do the squirrels roll their acorns about... for this is a cursed land, and only cursed beings dwell here. Though, their fate is far better than that of those beneath the water.whirlpool: slow, lethargic cycle. I drown myself in the dizziness. The circle whirls, and all who are caught in its neverending roundabout are locked there forever, doomed to circle and live the same life over and over again.
invoke the wind

Earth	[03 Jun 2004|05:39am]
[ **mood** | creative ] _-->They don't have to make sense or follow a pattern nor any distinguishable grammatical structure. They are merely thoughts, "tied to a horse that will never tire", that stemmed from an original theme. This theme happens to be Earth, elaborated on through subcategories._forests: Life-giving greenwood; house of leaves. the soft grass trailing blankets beneath my feet. chartreuse leaves fall, wafted from the branches. Trees willow and bend in the breeze, and in the sky the white moon looms overhead; forcing its will on the world. A warm embrace with soft kisses of dew waits for me, with fruit of the sweetest juices and gentle mist from dripping willows and fresh smelling pines; the giver of dreams who showed himself to me with the gentle growth of wet emerald ferns.swamp: skulls buried far beneath the mud--pine and olive mud. stagnant pools of black water. Thick tousle of overgrown pines and drooping hemlocks, vines reaching and scratching at the invisible path through marshland grasses and fallen trunks; a home for owls and dark wetland creatures, frogs, water snakes, and crows. Pits and quagmires, muddy weeds and humid, choking mosses covering all the living and dead. Hemlock roots lay peeking from the waters that surround them, black water that smothers, rots, mars all it touches. Sleep in the mire of death, lay down in its rotting core, let its darkened waters come up to meet you, to haunt your memories all the days of your life.beach: soft sand beneath my feet, golden crystals. the sand's gold and white hues meshing together before the waters rush up to meet them (moist, dripping mud of sand to come of it) and pull them away, bringing them to a new place to rest at the bottom with the sea plants--a new beginning. Gulls cry and waters gurgle, buck, and spray.rock: the rock bears fury. It sows its hatred in living things, hardness, repercussions, and disdain. gray and black swirl etched in the stone surface, brought into life from beneath--from the mountain catacomb. callous grains of metal and rock. Dust has become a weapon.desert: it will eat you alive and bury you with the rest of the dead of its land. hot, merciless, brutal, burning, insatiable fire. The air itself sizzles, the warmth rises to meet my face in agony. I cringe against the heat, but it doesn't help, nor does my sweat quench my various thirsts. The sand burns through my boots and singes my skin as the wind whips the desert floor across my entire being. I beg for the Element of Water to replenish the eart that dies of thirst, but most of all I beg for darkness of senses.
invoke the wind