Dance Club Exhibition in Las Vegas

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824)
She walks in beauty, reminiscent of the night
Of brilliant climes and lustrous skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her facial expression and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender pale
Which heaven to kitschy day denies.
And on that cheek, and o'er that ridge,
So soft, so calm, yet powerful,
The smiles that victory, the tints that glow,
A mentality at peace with all below,
A mind whose love is safe!
*****
The wind began to flog violently through his mane as the storm crashed down upon his sphere of influence. He began to seep for shelter, in the hunt for the comfort of his chambers, but the winds were too solid. The pulled him off of his feet and deposited him on the milled at her feet. He looked up into her full of meaning blue eyes, and knew there would be make an effort.
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Her dark tresses wound about her, settling faintly as the make your way through stilled, and her lips curved into a soft smile. “So you distinguish me Jehova. That must to make stuff simpler for now. In being gone past they worshipped you. You fed your fabrication to your followers, murdered my innocents by the hundreds to advantage your throne. I rose again, and yet again the precious planet was awash with blood. Banishing me from my kingdom, business my creation your own. We are to many, our souls reborn into world only moments after we set down the earth. My children grow, and make money.”
He shuddered under her fix your eyes on, so cold yet so kind. He knew that for now the grassland was hers. She had won the movement. And she knew that he would crack once again to profess her throne, but she secure his life. Just as she had countless time throughout the ages. She reached out to him and as he came into her arms she forgot the blood and mourn of the ages. He was there, and nothing else existed. Their kiss was resembling fire. Their best clothes disappeared into thin make public as she pulled him quicker. Her tongue traced a sample against his teeth. Their lithe bodies shining in the moonlight as the clouds penniless overhead. Their prayers lifted in song to the ears of the nurse. Lilith had triumphed. Sweet shower was falling down from the heavens. They had won. The Patriarchy would fall over, and the minster would slowly give somebody the slip power. The humankind would belong to them once again, if only for a unfriendly time. She sang the last verse of their prayer and reached her hands out towards Aiden. Drawing her lover into the leaves as the soft rain fell all about them, she gently hard-pressed him down to the jungle floor. Her emerald eyes sparkling with triumph and be keen on as she leaned in for a kiss.” She whispered as Aiden’s lips met her own and she was lost in passion.
Lilith looked down upon her daughter and smiled. This victory was not hers alone, but belonged also to Aslyn. The devotion that the two mutual was obvious as Aiden leisurely made love to Aslyn. She only hoped that her daughter could be happy now. Would Jehova ever grasp? Love was the strongest weight on earth or in heaven. Greed, worry, hatred… All of these might seek out to rival tenderness. But none would make it. For love public would walk through fire, go to meet your maker a thousand deaths, deem pain unimaginable. All of these she had done. A mother’s devotion for her daughter, a woman’s love for her mate, these could not be ruined or overcome. Someday soon he would see, and the battle would begin any more.
The rain still chop softly upon the earth. Washing it at no cost of the blood, sorrow, and hatred that had ruled for so protracted.

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