...The demon grows weary Surrounded by the scent of home Tempted by the promise of a chance The fire in her eyes begins to shadow The darkness seems lighter somehow More moonlit silver than the black of pitch From the ashes breathes new life The wind carries the hint of warmer days to come I breathe again I feel the pull again I hear the wispers again I see the glimmers again I taste the stange and alluring flavors again I reach out to touch... But what will I find? The eyes in my mind... gold and green, flames and pitch, all search to drown in pools of blue. For all my power and will, my strength and freedom, I yeild. I do not wish to give up the hunt, nor do I wish to cease my wanderings, yet I grow tired of my solitude. I desire a companion... A lover. A mate. I beleive I have found one. I am infatuated... The path ahead is wild and uncertain, and I will enjoy taming it. The trick will be to remain untamed... or would that be so terrible?