The dark years

Mostly Wales is cold, dark mysterious and devistatingly beautiful. It's a lonely barren wilderness. I was lost for many hears, heartbroken, not caring, not feeling, not living.
Oh gentle winds 'neath moonlit skies,
Do not you hear my heartfelt cries?
Below the branches, here about,
Do not you sense my fear and doubt?
Side glistening rivers, sparkling streams,
Do not you hear my woeful screams?
Upon the meadows, touched with dew,
Do not you see my hearts a'skew?
Beneath the thousand twinkling stars,
Do not you feel my jagged scars?
Seek not my mournful heart kind breeze,
For you'll not find it 'mongst these trees.
It's scattered 'cross the moonlit skies,
Accompanied by heartfelt sighs.
It's drifting o're the gentle rain,
A symbol of my silent pain.
It's buried 'neath the meadow fair,
Conjoined with all the sorrow there.
It's lost among the stars this night,
Too far to ease my quiet fright.
No gentle winds, seek not my heart,
For simply ... it has torn apart.

My family cared for me as if I were a baby, but I was wild and had a very hard time coming to terms with my "new" self. Iolo and Shân loved me as if I were their own child. Barely 18, the girl I knew before locked inside my broken heart. I was cold, unfeeling. How could he have done this to me? I heard that he was living in India, I had to face him and rip out his heart like he had mine.

I loved my "new" family dearly, but I was eaten by desire to avenge my "change". I travelled to him, following whispers on the breeze. I went alone, to Mumbai, never stopping once. It was 1964, the world was changing around me. I embraced the change but was thirsty for revenge. I found him in the Royal Palace, but watched and waited as he courtisaned many a lovely dancer. More than anything I needed to know what I meant to him if anything.

That night I murdered for the last time. It was a necessity, the Lady in Question was an arrogant snob who had access to a ball at the palace held by the maharishi. I stumbled around in her wardrobe and found my first item of coture, a sequined Mary Quant dress in deep burgundy, which accentuated my waist length blonde hair and pale skin.

I was beautiful.

In a moment of doubt in front of the mirror I asked myself what I was doing so far away from home, on my own, was he worth it? I perused for a long time, not moving, not daring to look away from the girl woman in the mirror. My God, look at what I had become.

I lost track of time there deep within my own self doubt. I lost myself completely allowing the dark to encompass me. No heartbeat to count, no warmth.

I ran, all the way to the dance, in shoes so large they swallowed my feet. I did not care I had to get some answers.

When he saw me he knew why I had come. He stared at me with his death dark beautiful eyes and took my hand, and silently led me to the dancefloor. I felt so weak against him, so feeble. But this had to end.

"Well now child" he whispered to me, softly sweetly just as I remembered in those fuzzy memories

"just as perfect as I remember!" He laughed then and I think it was the laugh that tipped me over the edge.

"How dare you" I sang him his favourite oh fortuna, and in that moment I served my justice, his body only dancing it's macabre dance. I had taken his head in my hands. I ran with it and threw it into the flames of the fireplace. I can still hear the screams today. I had no answers, my heart was still in tatters, but I had my revenge. It made me no happier this way, but it has made me the wary, lonely figure you see today. A square peg in a round hole, never quite adapting to the vegetarian way of life.

I am a child of Wales, dark, changing, perhaps even aloof and proud. But I have time on my side and my heart must mend.