[Breanna Kaori]

Pain? what pain?
you can't feel pain.
You can't feel your heart being torn
You can't see your loved ones,
screaming as they die
right before your eyes.
You can't,
because you aren't trapped in time


thirteen children
eighteen years old
a flash of light,
then five hundred years of cold


A frigid heart, but thawing slow
A battered mind, but she knows
she has time,
all the time in the world
she'll never change.
no not this girl,
she's trapped in time
by her bleeding heart and broken wings
trapped by the clock that never chimes
She's trapped forever
and trapped for always
losing loved ones
gaining pain


always trapped, always hurting
Her heart is frozen, yet always burning
She wants to hide, yet she's always yearning
wanting love, wanting hope.
She won't give up,
she won't give in
she has seen too much to let pain win.


Trapped in time,
nothing can free her
numb to pain,
yet consumed by it
missing her murdered children
every day, every minute.





welcome to the tortured mind of Breanna Kaori

[Breanna Kaori]

I have decided to put my life story on paper, so that as I grow older, I will remember.

As the story goes, or at least the one I was told, I was born on the third stroke of Midnight, New Years Eve between the years 1506 and 1507. My mother was a gypsy, and my father was a demon, though he hid that from my mother. He tried to seduce her and when he failed, he raped her and disappeared from her life. I was born of that rape. I was abandoned at birth by my mother. She feared me, feared the demon that she had given birth to. Winged, albino and now alone, the stars were stacked against me from day one. I was found by another gypsy, a blind woman, who raised me, never knowing what I looked like, never knowing that she was sheltering a half demon in her home. She named me Breanna Speranza Kaori, giving me her own surname to show that I was loved. When I was ten, I became a woman, and my foster mother passed away. A man from the nearest village took an interest in me, and took advantage of me being an orphan and alone. He forced me into marriage, and nine months later, I bore him twin boys, perfect, beautiful and they lacked the wings and coloration that were my curse. My husband took them away from me, putting them in a foster home, as soon as the cords were severed. This happened with all my children. Eight times my children were taken from me. All thirteen of my beautiful children, stolen from me.

My husband bruised my spirit by taking my children away. He bruised my body by beating me at any possible chance. For eight years I endured the abuse. Then I ran. Unfortunately I wound up in the village, and the villagers started screaming "A demon! A demon! she must be killed!" My fight or flight instinct battled with itself in my breast. I took flight, soaring over the heads of the village. I didn't leap fast enough. A chain loop spun through the air, wrapping around my neck. I was caught.

My wings were chained, as were my feet and hands. I was only unchained briefly, just long enough to get dressed in my only formal dress, for my trial. The black fabric accentuated my white skin and made my red eyes burn. The hemline, designed for my long legs and my career as a dancer if I ever got away from my husband, was just below my hip bone on the left side, and sloped downward to my right ankle. The hemline was edged with black lace and on my thighs I wore black leather straps which held my knives. Unfortunately, my knives were removed before the chains were put back on. Chains... I hate them with a passion. The were wound around my wrists and neck, and threaded through the shackles on my ankles. THey were looped about my torso, pinning my wings to my back. Then, fully trussed up in chains, they marched me to my trial.

To Be Continued...

[Breanna Kaori]

Five hundred years of cold and hate
in an instant, a kiss, it all dissipates.
I'm learning to love you,
I'm learning to say,
what I feel in my heart
from day to day.


I've been hurt before,
but the past is long gone
I won't let it stop me
it can only make me strong.


I refuse to cry any more tears
I refuse to let the past overwhelm me with fears
My husband is gone, my children lie dead
and in their graves, also lies my dread
the dread of love, so strong and true
because now I am finding love
and I'm finding it in you.


This poem is for my love Sharak

[Breanna Kaori]

The worst pain I felt,
was not in my wing,
not in my head,
The worst pain I felt,
was in my heart
The day I heard the words
words from my son,
meaning he didn't know my part,
he didn't know my part in his life,
he didn't remember the pain and the strife,
of being stolen only moments after birth,
from his mother who cried as her heart died.

My oldest son, Kaden by name,
shouted these words to his keeper,
his mother he thought,
"Look mama, it's an angel!"
those words broke my heart,
he thinks I'm an angel,
he doesn't know my name,
he doesn't know I bore him,
so he cannot know the pain
of hearing those words
so innocent and pure
as I was flying away
from my life on that day.

Kaden was 7, he and Blair,
almost eight, the oldest of all,
and the ones that hurt most
to see them ripped from my arms,
I cried to my husband,
"let them come to no harm!
Let them come to no harm and you too will be safe,
for if my children are touched,
I will make your life hell,
I will poison your food,
and I will stab you as well.
Never forget the oath of a mother,
because it holds true far longer than any other."

When my children forgot,
when they didn't know my face,
I dissapeared from the world,
I did it, I hid in the dark, hiding from pain,
But when my husband killed them,
my rage fell like rain,
he couldn't run,
he couldn't hide,
he couldn't even scream,
as I plunged the steel cross through his black heart,
and finally with his final breath,
with his long needed death,
I was free,
but not from time.

The same cross that I used,
when I killed him that night,
was the one that trapped me,
and now, I can't find the light,
I'm the only one still living, I'm the only one left
of the years of my youth,
My friends, though few and far between,
are gone now,
buried under a mound, or ashes thrown to the wind.

I lost my heart when my son yelled the words,
but it was found and killed when my children left this world.
My sons and daughters are all in heaven today,
and as for my husband,
I have just this to say.
I hope he's in hell, I hope it's too hot,
I hope you don't get a chance to rot.
I hope you burn now and forever,
for killing my children,
and trapping my heart,
you deserve eternal pain but it will never equal
the pain in my heart.
So burn forever,
and remember, you did this to yourself.
I did my part, bearing your bairns,
I promised you death if they came to harm at your hands,
and when you killed them,
each and every one.
I did my part,
and felt no regret when it was done.

This is for my husband, so he may know, as he burns in hell, what I feel every day since he killed my children so long ago. He'll never feel the equal of pain, but he will know that whatever he feels, I feel it worse when I hear the echoes of their voices.

This post has been edited by Breanna Kaori on Aug 27 2006, 12:20 PM