In times long past, a man once ruled this land.
He lived at home with wife and child and knight.
His mystic power flowed through sword and hand,
Yet no one knew the vastness of his might,
And deep within, he hid a heart of cold.
He often let the children come and play.
He’d join them in the garden and would mold
Fantastic games of yore and ancient days.
But his illusions drew upon their fear.
They started small, but large, did they become.
The children thought their nightmares ever neared,
And then, to tragic death did one succumb.
Too late he saw he couldn’t hide his heart.
The home and realm he built, he tore apart.
Eva and Hallos return, and they’re on the lookout for something…
A product of old fashioned, spontaneous imagination.
A reminder of beautiful things in a time of loss.
For a full view of the finished image, see this post.
To find out, poke the subject.
- If the subject squeaks, then we have a person.
- If the subject haunts your dreams, then we have a ghost.
Note from M.A.N.: I do not recommend you poke a ghost.
An empty floor in a castle ‘lone and frozen…
In celebration of the event earlier this week. Also, puns.
An expression may give but a hint of what’s inside…
Fire texture from Wallpaper Cave.
Something a bit less blue…