Warrior Prince Of The Forest Glen 


He stands alone on top of the hill.
Claymore in hand, he spies the truth,
The battle below is not of his will.
And hears the cries of slain innocent youth.

The conflict commenced before time began,
It marches ever onward without a pause.
The lovers and mothers pray for their men,
torn between what's right, their hearts and the cause.

But the warrior prince is alone on this hill,
The storm clouds surround his darkening mind,
And it will always be that way until,
The war is vanquished from a corrupted time.

The moment of his reflection is now past,
He joins the engagement as it raged before.
The battle cry rose and weapons clashed,
For the Clan, for the Honor and nothing more.

~Blood Of Kings~


Into the space found between time,
The source of Immortals we devise.
Into the flesh of human beings,
Will be created in the Blood Of Kings.

The Princes are born into the night.
Forever to live and love and fight.
But this one prince sits above the rest,
The Warrior Prince has passed the test.

To prove his worth before the clan,
To show his skill with Claymore in hand.
He fought more enemies than he could count,
He slew them until blood soaked his mount.

"He is the best among us to defend,
The honor, his honor of Highlander Men."
The Prince kneels before his clan gathered here,
The Claymore is raised while he shows no fear.

"You have kept the honored traditions my son."
As the blade touched his shoulder but in love.
The Prince raised his head and showed not a tear,
To gaze with respect upon his noble father here.

Then the firelight shadows begin to fade,
The lightening came from another place.
The Warrior Prince stood and looked around.
There was nothing left, not even a sound.

"It must have been a dream that I once had,
To see my father so true, proud  and glad."
The Warrior Prince turned and walked away,
Pondering the fate of still another day. 

-Azure Skies

My hero in blue with his
lips parted to say my name.
His eyes call to me and I appear
to place my hand upon his cheek
and return a tender kiss.
His cloak of royal blue becomes
apart of my warmth and
drapes across my back as we
merge into one quickening of 
light passion until the
profound moment becomes
all that we are capable of.
Hide me in your cloak.
Taking the time to comfort
my fears and my head swims
with the scent of you.
With your face upon my heart,
my fingers curl a lock of
your brown hair.
Then I sleep by your side 
forever a partner of love, of life.
If you are my world, then
the world is my lover
and I am its soul.

"Forever My Soul" 

The darkest quickening I ever felt was an evil 
I wished to be spared.  
Jim, my friend was in torment and pain, I saw no
way for his release. 
I pleaded to him, "Let me help you." because I
knew I had to try. 
I wanted to do what he once did long ago as 
Hayoka man for me. 
He fought me instead with his anger and blade,
pierced my heart with his hate. 
So my soul said, "Don't hurt him." While my mind
said, "You must." 
As our duel continued on and it became clear to me, 
I hated what was done to him. 
The tears could not be spared this time if I was
to help him on his way. 
When the moment arrived, although I did hesitate,
out of love, knowing what had to be done.
I looked into his eyes hoping to see his
redemption there.
Finding its absence I couldn't stop my sword 
from its final justice. 
The last sane thought I had before the dark
quickening began, 
"It is finished, my friend. Go in peace, for now 
I must take your place." 
The darkness over took me then as the essence
grabbed my soul. 
A voice filled my mind and taunted this phrase,
"It isn't finished, but just begun!" 
The lightening made me over and changed my soul 
into becoming hate. 
The fire arose all around me and I enjoyed its
power and heat. 
"They will fear me now!" My heart rejoiced as I
held my sword up high. 
My delight for this capacity grew and found no
limit as a devil's child. 
My mission was there amongst the weak, I could
finally indulge in crime. 

I wanted to hurt and kill them all, and anyone
else in my way. 
My evil eyes and grin betrayed what I had become,
the monster I used to fear.
I hurt them for pleasure, I hurt them for sport, I
hurt them because I could. 
I fought with the one who used to be here and
wanted his soul returned. 
I had his soul and body now and forever would
always be mine. 
He tried to call his friends to help but I knew
what to carry out. 
I made them fear me, I saw them cower, I laughed
at their stupidity. 
Sean trusted the old Duncan and held out his 
hand in faith. 
His voice tried to sway me, his eyes looked into
me, as a friend I saw him now. 
I felt the evil fearing him tremble, so I had to
kill him, and quick.
The horror of my deed pleased me, but the darkness
from that moment on. 
Pulled back enough to let me feel the pain of
killing mym once dear friend. 
The sky turned black that day reflecting on the
darkness in my soul. 
I then returned to my home in despair, searching
for those memories of peace. 
Going to a church that I once knew, I thought 
I saw Darius there. 
Missing his company and advice because I needed
him now, more than ever. 
In the sanctuary room I stood and screamed, "What
Have I Become!" 
"What I was, is it truly gone?" I needed the
answers from someone. 
I lay on the floor and cried to God, "Help me if
you can, I can't exist like this!" 
I wanted Death to come for me, but I feared 
its knowing touch. 
I was the rope that evil tugged with righteous on
the boundary. 

Methos found me there alone and coaxed me to
follow him away. 
He took me to a small Holy spring where evil
didn't want to be. 
He held before me a sword, that sword of my
ancient clan family. 
If I wanted to be whole again, I had to claim it
and make it my own. 
I went down to the spring alone and tried not to
fear its light. 
It called to me as I drew near and felt the
comfort of a mother's arms. 
I stepped into its depths and let the pureness
washed over me. 
But I had to love myself first, before its magic
could work inside me. 
The evil did not want to leave and fought
desperately for my soul. 
Telling me, "Give up because you cannot kill now
what you have become." 
But I summoned up all that I knew was good and
killed the evil within. 
As the evil pulled free it tried to escape the
burning surface of the spring.
Holding out my arms I embraced the light as 
it washed over me. 
A voice inside my heart whispered, "Go in peace,
it is truly finished now." 
I stepped from the water with a feeling of what 
it was to be pure. 
Freed from the evil when it dwelt in me, I was
ready, now, to proclaim.        

"FOREVER IT IS MY SOUL!" 

Dance Of Death

Evil's attempt to kill innocence
almost prevailed this day.
As unseen flames of hate reached
out to embrace the boy now a man.
Duncan cannot control what he does
and remembers every weakness known.
He draws first blood to make clear,
the threat Richie now must endure.

A dance of death takes the stage,
Their swords exchange blows with fury, 
and fear sends Richie a message of doom. 
MacLeod smiles his triumph knowing 
his way upon this floor to dance with 
the fate of an innocent one.
Richie wanted no part of this quarrel
and defended until he could not.

He bled and hurt both in body and
soul, his heart was sick with betrayal.
Duncan was ready to finish it now
and kissed Richie's head good bye.
The vindictive flames reached again
to pour salt of pain upon his wounds.
No time to shed the tears as Richie 
felt his moment on earth was done.

He held himself ready to die by a
teacher, a friend, a once honest man.
The sword was raised, unseen but felt
as the force in time stopped the motion.
A shot was fired by Joe in hopes of keeping 
alive both Immortal friends, so dear.
Richie's pain and relief showed as
Duncan fell with a gasp onto the floor.

Richie picked up his sword and stood
by the old watcher insisting still, 
"We have to help him Joe."
Dawson shook his head in anguish,
"This is not our friend MacLeod. 
He is beyond our help, now go!"
Richie's sorrow and pain was never
so broken as he left that place in agony.

He is no longer a child, no longer the
boy or even the innocent one.
He then aged a hundred years worth of grief 
in a moment that malevolent day.

Cloud  Sitter  
(one)

As he sits on clouds of white, bathed by the fire,
His thoughts rise above the earthly domain.
The noble gaze of concern touches his face,
and I am drawn with anticipation up to his spire.

He takes my hand and we dance the storms away.
Only the lightening flash can match our smiles.
Our laughter is thunder echoing off the miles.
Fragrance of earth floats up to our cloud haven. 

The moment of time sends him a lesson to teach,
as his eyes become the stars to still my night.
I look into the future to find his champion's light,
Only then can he heal my heart with this peace.




Cloud Sitter  
(two)

Paleness of the morning
light fades and
brings out the stars
of stratosphere.
The cloud sitter 
stays and observes
all the world 
below turning.
His brow of concern
longs to see
the spreading  
quietness of peace.
Brown hair blowing
upon winds of change.
The past creeps behind,
but remains his domain.
Gaze into the future,
catch a glimmer of light.
Let it pierce our soul in an
embrace of friendship, 
with a sound of music so sweet 
that it can never end.
Reaching my hand to you
to settle upon your cloud throne
wispering my devotion because
time cannot be stopped
as we become lovers
of the night.

Gypsy Prince

I was an outsider but allowed into their tribe,
because of a trust that was understood.
We traveled along at a leisurely pace,
my heart was calm with the peace.
They bestowed upon me a sign of respect
and I wanted for nothing as a prince. 
A clan of Gypsies became the abode,
with a long fellowship of traditions.
Their culture rich and a people spoke
of a love profound for family claim.
So I roam each day content in my place,
and care for those in this camp of Rom gypsy.
I sleep each night with Highland dreams, 
and a family that I missed and longed to see.
They're all there, my cousins and kinsmen,
and each thoughtful moment is precious to me.

The Sword Of A Hero

Before my time, he walked the earth.
He fought with men in strife.
By his side a blade of steel,
as strong as his will to live.

His eyes narrow to judge the man,
who stands before him to fight.
Men of honor, men of skill,
but who will survive this day?

That strength will become their deed,
as the battle is drawn, their fate is there.
Who, now, will question the victor’s song as
he gives his passion to win the prize.

This hero, he fights with all he knows fair.
So is it justice that sits in the balance?
The forces of time, they stop to watch
the struggle of combat and the glory of life.

Both men feel they are destined to fight,
and are forfeit this day if they walk away.
For mankind needs hope and heroes 
with swords with a fate that now rings true.

Sword Of Souls


The sword, as it calls,
it hums my name.
I cannot stop
what I must do.
I hold its’ grip
and feel possessed
to give it another
soul or mine.
I search the night
until I find a
victim of the Game.
He looks afraid as
he sees me with the
slayer sword, challenging.
This fight is fixed and 
he loses to me.  
I unwillingly take his head.
The quickening starts
to move towards me,
but the sword begins to take it away.
I heard it laugh as its’
darkness drew the man's
soul into its’ cold blade.
In fear, I dropped the sword 
and ran, as I heard it calling
again, and again.

The Sword Dance


The sword play is 
my Sword dance. 
I am bare, 
but for my sword
as my skin glistens.

I go through my paces, 
and feel the rotation 
of earth ‘round Sun! 
My opponent is there, 
though, I sense only 
his presence. 

I close my eyes, 
Hold up my sword, 
for the dance is all 
there is.

Dark Shadows
(one)


The dark shadows of my love
hides, afraid to be noticed.
For, if found, it would wither 
and scream to be put back.
Back into the shadows to
stay with the Nightingale.
All secrets must reside
where they are most safe
and mine for him are the
reasons for my existence.
And the moment is so
precious that I sigh
with blue eyes into the
depths of his brown ones.
Knowing my secret will
never be heard, knowing
his hands will never 
touch the softness
of my youth.




Dark  Shadows
(two)

The dark shadows of my love hides,
so afraid to be noticed.
For, if found, my soul might retreat  
and shy away before I can know.
Back into the silhouette 
to stay with the Nightingale,
Singing the songs of my heart.
All my mystery must reside
where they are most safe.
Mine, for her, have captivated
the reasons for my truth simplicity. 
For now, this moment becomes so
precious and complete that I sigh, 
with the need to draw closer unseen.
My hand longs to reach out
Then, with sad eyes I gaze into 
the depths of her soft face.
Always knowing my secret can
never be heard. The tears of
Knowing her hands will never 
touch the sweetness of my youth.

The Passionate Dance


The passion of the dance becomes unveiled.
The rustle of her dress enthralls.
The music continues to go into you as
the dance becomes Duende.

The fire in his eyes looking to her, then
stamp their feet in unison.
The touch of hands makes them feel depths 
of their souls becoming one.

He holds her tight and feels her breath
with the passion of the dance.
She feels his heat and strength of desire,
and longs for more than his touch.

The dance must end, but they want to go on, 
and continue to the end of time.
For what is love, but a moment of time
when the dance becomes Duende.

The Fire Ignites


Into the cool of mother earth,
his body lain for a day.
He emerged to the immortal birth,
but an immortal he would not stay.

The fire ignites into his soul,
his mind is captured before the sun.
To rule the mortal children as his own,
so alive he believes his purpose done!

Songs of the righteous are his task,
"I am Larca! I am their God!"
He pulls his disciples from death's grasp,
"You must serve me, we have this bond."

Only he knows what the mortals bestow,
through the ages he tries his best.
To council, to argue, and to show,
"I will be the only one immortal left!"

The last to go

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Email: Brena Evans