.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
03-11-2013, 11:20 PM
it has come to pass... The guiding balls of light spoke of old magic that kindled the depths of her soul, as a kindred spirit sang… You are life, but you kill too. Little by little, you can torture the mind. We can leave our mother, but not you behind. A simple formula, your creation. With moonlight, lovers' fascination. When the emptiness that now stirred, filled her, the lonely mare felt the streak of a single teardrop caress her jowl. Even if the song was a riddle of sorts, it was of personal value than anything else for her. She dared not speak, as the only form she recognized was that of Midas’s frame. While there was another striped unicorn and a darker hued mare by the fallen globe of light, hidden beneath the leaves and vines of the beach shore, yet still a young filly kept her distance and yet another stallion questioned what these things were. Did he want an obvious answer for an obvious question? She did not wish to know. She could hear a voice from her past whisper You know I need you, we all do. You are life, but you kill too. She took a stride forward toward the globe that hovered twenty feet out, while the waves beckoned her to join them and play. She had been hunted as a mortal girl, and for what? Her horn? She had been betrayed by her lover and here she had risked and given everything for him, only to take his very life in the end. But that was not all that the voice spoke of. Little by little, you can torture the mind. We can leave our mother, but not you behind. She couldn’t hold back the second tear that found purchase on her cheek bone, as the reality hit her hard. Facing her past was not easy, and she soon found herself chest high, still searching out the globe farthest out of reach. She just had to reach it. How could one memory devour her and leave her an insomniac, was that even possible? She knew, even at his death, the thoughts that ran through those she left behind in a mad rage, her signature of her kill had left them in terror and tortured them each and every day, until they took her very life, and the last horn of what they thought to be the last of her kind; the unicorn, pure in all her ways, and innocent, of course until proven guity, as she had quickly learned in court, on the awful place known as Earth. She shivered at the nightmares that threatened her. The hunters would not leave her behind, until they had claimed what they thought was rightfully their’s; her horn. And to the last of all the lyrics, lingered the longest; A simple formula, your creation. With moonlight, lovers' fascination. Bearing her own choices, she was the only one who could write her own destiny. She was the one who had created her fate with each stride she had taken, to get to this point. She was accustomed to becoming a fascination to those who wished to keep her to themselves. She was often seen as a symbol of hope, of youth and purity; a fantasy that was continuously chased after but was not a reality. Here, she had reached her destination, floating before the golden globe. If she dared, she could touch the hovering ball with her lengthy horn, but did she dare? Curiosity was sometimes a curse. It didn’t help that the pulsing only drew her in closer, and reaching out, she attempted to touch the blazing fire with her horn. She wouldn’t know unless she tried, the worst that could happen was being tossed back into a mortal’s body and fed to the hunters. Even death sounded more appealing to her than the latter. ooc: 1st and last paragraph © to s3ilver (part of her poem collection) the essence of timeless beauty |
