The Styx Gallery displays the darker side of life, making emotional desktop wallpapers easy to create with gothic tides.
Styx on the Rebound
Shaiya aka Styx and Cora Venix
Styx on Glass
Styx White Wedding 1
Styx White Wedding 2
Black Widow Styx
Styx Promo Shoot
The following poems are randomly selected from part A of the Garden series.
If you are patient, the whole story may appear. There is a doorway on this site, that will open to the poetry collection, both in context and complexity.
A Modest Tender
I was born to be gentle, yet powerful;
If only the Ancients knew, what I know.
For I am wiser than the Elder Ancients;
Considering I was conceived a million millenniums ago.
I am the youngest of my relations,
However, I have far more important duties.
They range from assisting the blind with light,
To giving enough warmth to the little cuties.
My closest friends, the Nooms, are also Tenders,
In the sense, that they carry out what I do.
Well Not as much, they can be quite lazy,
But I consider them as my nocturnal shoe.
Only one, is greater than myself, Emalf,
Being the Only One, who created me, you as well.
The Great One has many names and faces.
The God of gods, persuader of the infidel.
The Wanderer's Wish
If I died in your arms,
Where would you lay me?
If I needed to be helped,
Would you come and save me?
All these questions that could be asked,
The answers, I need never know.
For they are locked away,
Only you know how high the roses will grow.
The colour of our roses,
Bloom in burgundy and blue,
Thorns of hatred are blunt;
Isn't this the way we grew?
A fragrance beyond all encounters,
Deep colours like blood flow,
Into our hearts, deepening this love;
Only you know, how high the roses will grow.
East Coast ( Ferral's Thoughts )
We've been waiting for Hasten's return,
As he should have returned by now.
Maybe, he's still resting up with Kindaal;
Maybe, he's only away by an hour.
Since he's been gone, things have been stirring.
I think that we are awfully close to the Towers,
Because the fires and chanting are alive;
I don't know if they are Natas's or ours.
I sent a scout out to confirm my thoughts.
He returned to tell me of the Assistant's retreat;
How they were running scared from something,
Unaware of what, he couldn't see through Between's heat.
I do wish Hasten would speed things up,
So I could attack, instead of this dreary wait.
I so wish, Hasten would give me Kindaal's orders,
So that I could seal Natas's deserved fate.
Discovery and Denial
"Well, well, well. What have we here? Zeme has finally gone and done something right. Hard to believe, isn't it Zeme?"
Zeme remained deafly quiet, with the still unconscious Hasten at his feet.
"What's the matter, Zeme! Devil gone and got your tongue?" Natas broke into a sadistic laugh. "Oh well, Zeme! I have plans for you. On your way back to the Between, drop in and see Raspitur."
Unbeknownst to Zeme, Raspitur has created a female Wigrae. Zeme was destined to go back to the Between, as a breeder.
"Before you go, Zeme; wake this Runner."
Zeme unlocked Hasten's legs, which relieved the pain in Hasten's mind. Hasten slowly came out of his drifting blackness.
"So, the swift little boy wakes. Nice to see, that you dropped in. Hmnn, what have you got to tell me little one?"
Hasten, still didn't know what had happened. Why it happened. Where he was. And, who this vile half person is. Then all of a sudden, it dawned upon him. He was within the walls of Mephisot.
"Come on little man. Tell me what's going on."
All Hasten remembered, was the Three Ancient Monkeys; Hear No, See No, Speak No Evil.
"Listen! Young fool. Something is happening, otherwise you wouldn't be walking all over my, MY Between!!!"
Hasten had consciously decided, to become all of the Ancient Monkeys.
"I can see, that I'm going to get absolutely nothing, out of you. But this much I do know; something is alive south of Mephisot."
"As for you, fool, say good-bye to your beloved Garden."
Hasten was placed in the Catacombs of Mephisot. An underground maze of dungeons. They say, that the only escape from the Catacombs is death. Even then, your spirit may well be still entombed.
Natas has set about getting information on what is stirring in other parts of Nothing.
A Proud Tender
In ancient times, they had there oddities,
Just as we have them with us now.
Their descendants changed in shapes and sizes,
The farmer forced to put away his plough.
I, am a proud descendant of the Emu,
A proud bird, who roamed the Ancient Lands.
The traits, of no flight remained though,
Imagine a Dragon, stuck fast on Garden's sands.
We did develop larger wings to compensate,
However, our huge bodies are too heavy.
But, this is only a physical restraint;
As the Great One, gave us the gift of Levee.
We are true dragons in all aspects,
Mystics in soul, in body we are Tenders.
We hardly ever, leave the borders of the Levee,
In the same way as the Ancient Pretenders.
The Preacher, is what I am known as,
Although I rarely preach of the Great One.
I am a master of arms, subtle and harrowing,
Many a bloody, tireless battle I have won.
My reputation strikes fear into the infidel,
As they know of my savage battle skill.
Occasionally I will show them some mercy;
Mercy in the sense of a swift kill.
My elders, our fathers, the Prayer,
Are even more vicious in any fight.
Their intentions are for the larger prey,
Like the Sloth flying amongst the candle light.
Yes, we live a barbarous life,
Yet at times we are a serene choir.
But a warning must be heeded;
When angered we have the rage of fire.