Godiva
the Polymage
"Who goes there you say?" I put a hand to my chin at about how best to answer such a question in a balancing act of self confedence and grace.
"A name does not define me. My country has no walls to contain me. My occupation cannot possibly keep me content when my eyes are dead set on the natural treasures of this world and realm. I cannot be killed, I have died to live in everlasting ethreal through the arcane arts.
A Merlins-kin, a druid, a shaman of love, a mage of paper and smoke. The pen is my sword, the paper my shield, a cape of canvas and a feather'ed hat with a sapphire gem at the band. A mages garb covers my chest with the emblem of my father upon my left breast, the mark of the Zingaro, a bohemian nomad of travels. I am a songstess, a bard, a magician and a mother with a sunflower staff. My grimoire of souls I made as a little girl, friends I call them. They are the voices in my ink, the dreamers of my dreams, they raised me when the world saw but a girl with a diary.
My muses took me to places through worlds you would only dare read about. I have fallen from the finger tips of a giant. Got lost in a ebony land hidden under the bottom of the sea, and eaten by a beast in two massive bites. I have crawled out of lava, vanished into ashs, gave birth to children who were reborn again.
I am water. I am air and lightening. I am the sun and moonlight in the waking of winters breath. I am polymorph changling, a moment, a memory and a wonderful thought to behold. But in the simplest of terms, in every and all situations I find myself in. Alive or dead. I rise above. Forever and always. I am Godiva the Free."
"A name does not define me. My country has no walls to contain me. My occupation cannot possibly keep me content when my eyes are dead set on the natural treasures of this world and realm. I cannot be killed, I have died to live in everlasting ethreal through the arcane arts.
A Merlins-kin, a druid, a shaman of love, a mage of paper and smoke. The pen is my sword, the paper my shield, a cape of canvas and a feather'ed hat with a sapphire gem at the band. A mages garb covers my chest with the emblem of my father upon my left breast, the mark of the Zingaro, a bohemian nomad of travels. I am a songstess, a bard, a magician and a mother with a sunflower staff. My grimoire of souls I made as a little girl, friends I call them. They are the voices in my ink, the dreamers of my dreams, they raised me when the world saw but a girl with a diary.
My muses took me to places through worlds you would only dare read about. I have fallen from the finger tips of a giant. Got lost in a ebony land hidden under the bottom of the sea, and eaten by a beast in two massive bites. I have crawled out of lava, vanished into ashs, gave birth to children who were reborn again.
I am water. I am air and lightening. I am the sun and moonlight in the waking of winters breath. I am polymorph changling, a moment, a memory and a wonderful thought to behold. But in the simplest of terms, in every and all situations I find myself in. Alive or dead. I rise above. Forever and always. I am Godiva the Free."
