I was totally thinking Hal was a lord when he was with Sylvie but then remembered that is Whimsy's Being Human fic!

I must say I assumed that what he tells Leo of his past was true but the reasons why he tells him in the first place are a little confusing to me. Hal is in a position of power over Leo so in some ways it seems Hal is at times being a little self-pitying and wants Leo to feel sympathy for him when Leo's situation wouldn't lead him to think favourably of any vampires. Why does he seek Leo out in particular to go and speak to out of all the werewolves they are holding prisoner? Whatever the reasons, Leo sees through it all. Or is this what Hal is hoping? I was never sure if Hal goes there deliberately to seek help or whether talking to Leo changes him?

look forward to that Pearl, is it in watercolour? are you going to call it "A Terrible Beauty"?

I did find that poem I wrote last year. 

 

A Long 500 years

 

A baby cries

a pitiful wail

a bastard’s beginning

someday all will hail

 

Innocence dashed

at the youngest of age

he mourns and endures

til no loyalty remains

 

He runs and he searches

(im)mortality springs

his dreams and ambitions

finally given wing

 

But deification

is a dark, horrid gift

bathed in blood and tears

leaving him in time, adrift

 

Cycles of mayhem

killing, destruction - it takes it’s toll

a sprinkling of good

wrestled by discipline and control

 

Friendships made and lost

lovers found and destroyed

evil waxes and wanes

the ending he longs for, toys

 

Appetite, HUNGER

the length and breadth inside

he continues his torturous existence

the bloodlust forever his bride

 

The sleeper waits to be waken

his turn always comes, in time

he only hopes that someday...
he will win over the monster inside.

I remember your wonderful poem whimsy, along with the other Hal poems for national Poetry day everyone posted last year. It is good to read it again and feels right in this topic too! This was mine.

Homage To Hal

 

Even in company 

 

Others have stepped on and off

His journey

The view changes 

 

He travels alone

 

with the exception

of  the reflections

of his actions 

 

-- They  never leave him

crystalise when he closes his eyes

The spaces between the words of his

 

fragile disciplines

 

lurking like shadows 

when he closed his mind

 

invading the flow -

 

Building them up piece by piece

Taking them down again piece by piece

Careful and solo

 

The shouting silences

In the daring pauses

Like a tragedy

aching across the centuries

 

He sees the horizon

He almost reaches the destination

But he always knows

There is only on direction

This goes

 

~ by domino ~

 

 

that would be amazing Jozie *dreams*

Pearl, sorry just realised I'd not replied to your comment, looking forward to your 'A terrible beauty' pastel painting!

What is a year when you're over 500 hundred years old Super Duper!