HurrrDurrr

If I held the sun
I would cast it away
If, by that action,
You would turn my way.

I don't know your name
I admit it, it's true
But true also is
That I'd really like to

I've lasted alone
From my start to forever
I could wait that much longer
Though not, I would rather.

Someday I shall meet you
And you shall meet me
What shall the Earth do
When the Sun flees from me?

Till that day you find me
Or when I find you
We shall go on
Just as we have to.

It will be worth the wait.

I am lost.
There is a hole.
I think I know what it is
And how to fill it
And, perhaps,
Where to find the fill.
But if I am right
The conditions are not
And I must keep this hole
Despite the pain
I would try a compromise
What may be the fill
Or may not
In case I am wrong
Because I would rather admit my fault
And fill that cursed hole
Than maintain my stance
And still feel that pain.
And yet the fear of my fault
Stays my hand from that action
So I can only curse my cowardice
And pray for the fill to this hole.

What the English language truly lacks
Is all the words for love
A mother, a brother, a friend or a lover
We love different from one another.

So when I look deep down inside
And see this great love burning bright
How can I take the risk to tell you
And then find that the kind is not right?

If mine is not of the same kin
As the one that burns within you
How could I, for my own gain,
Risk doing that harm to you?

You put on your colorful gowns
All of you
Your brightest colors, you wear at last
And to the last

You were limber in your green
Now you stand stiff in your colors
And you let yourselves fall
You dance in your death
To welcome that yearly sunset
That we call Autmn.

Your corpses lay in their glowing gowns
Beneath where you spent your half-year day
They promise, where they lie,
Nay, they swear,
That their dance will be danced again.
The golden gowns worn once more
To show that great night called winter
How summer can die.

Oh you leaves!
That I had your courage!
To dance in death!
To show away
To the last
My last action
Like yours
To laugh
Even then
At my end.

To lure myself to sleep at night
I'd tell myself a tale
Of daring or loss; Of life or of love,
And thus sleep despite life's gale.

I kept whom I knew off the stage
To keep them safe and sound
For if the two worlds were to meet
I'd have dreams so profound

But now new light is shown
And my mind been set ablaze
A fire so burning, tempting, bright
I can't see in this haze

So this fire crosses the borders
From my life into my thoughts
And thus I see you every night
Oh what new worlds have I wrought?

The men grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him to the ground. Trying to lift himself, Michael cried out to his friends “Jared, Falzath! Run!” but saw even as the words left his lips that he was too late—the centaur and his cloaked companion were already surrounded by the dark helmeted minions in a wide circle. As one of the men pinned Michael down, Falzath snorted in distress and charged the line, unwilling to give up.
Typically a 700 lb centaur charge would scatter any line, but they held their ground—they had back up. Falzath reared back just in time to avoid being tackled by a nearly as large canine sporting curved horns from the back of it's head—a hellhound. In doing so, however, Jared lost his grip and fell backwards. Falzath tried to turn around to defend him—to find a knife at his throat. He stepped backward and heard the hollow snarl of the hellhound. He held still but snorted and swore.
“Bastards.” His verbal jab was met with laughter. From behind the main lines a man stepped out—unlike the others, he wore a hood with a red crescent emblazoned on the top—quickly recognizable as a leader and mage.
“Upset you were outmatched, Centaur? How unlike your kin.” Face obscured by the shadow of the cloak—and perhaps some spell—he walked up to Falzath and patted him on the cheek—enraging the centaur. The man laughed as the red-coated stallion fought to contain himself. “Don't worry—my business is not with you.” He turned to the dismounted Jared, who was struggling to lift himself from the ground. Michael saw his friends blood red hair in full light for the first time, and realized that the golden shine was not an illusion cast exclusively by the firelight, but rather an inherent quality. He gritted his teeth and struggled, but he couldn't overpower two men when flat on his face. The hooded figure knelt in front of Jared and looked him over.
“No, I'm here for you, little one.” Michael made a face while the man grinned—Jared was easily twenty. “I bet you haven't told them what you are, have you? Aha, certainly not—I'm sure the Centaur would never have let you ride on his back if he knew, would he?” While his face was hidden, the mans voice was rank with a sneer as he grabbed Jareds hair and hauled him up to his feet. “Let's see what they think when we reveal that little secret, hmm?”
The man pulled a knife out of his cloak and Jared reacted with a swing and a yell—his back had been injured falling of Falzath—and recoiled as the man sliced open the front of Jared’s sewn-shut cloak. Michael mouth fell open as the black satin fell to the ground. Even the hooded man seemed taken aback at what was revealed; he was speechless for a moment before he began laughing maniacally at the newly exposed figure of Jared—who was now visibly very much a woman.
“Well, that wasn't what I was expecting to find, but a treat nonetheless! You didn't even share the fact that you were female with your companions?” Still laughing, he turned his shaded face to Michael and Falzath, who were still stunned. “Don't be taken yet, my friends! This isn't the end of the show. Not by a long shot.” He turned the knife back around in his hand and brought it to Jareds neck—who now writhed despite the pain. “Don't worry dear, I'm not without a sense of decency—but that wasn't all I had to show.”
The man spun her around and sliced down the back of her shirt halfway. Pulling her hair out of the way and pulling back the clothing he gestured at the rows of shiny, ruby-red scales starting at the back of her head and thickening till they covered her back entirely. He broke out into laugher once more as Falzath lost control of himself and reared, and his next few words only barely overcame the sound of Falzath's reaction and the subsequent actions of the hellhound.
“Not only is your Jared a woman, she's also a Dragonborn!”