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08-03-2014, 08:46 AM
i am the vanguard of your destruction
Peculiar, how still the world becomes when you cease to fight. How.. calm; like the slow lap of waves against a sunny shore, and not this destructive rush of water spraying over the land-bridge and falling on him like needles. There beneath the storm there was some kind of pattern to its erratic wildness, something just outside of his reach.. something he could almost, almost perceive...
But the world was not content to let him lie there, and drift away like flotsam; and if the sea would hear him and rise up to sweep him away, it would not be without witness. Fragile—why was she out here, on the rocks?—and delicate, but no angel.
There are no angels here.
The hush of her voice didn't carry over the din of the storm. It roared in his ears, howled and keened, and the waves breaking over the ledge drowned what else the wind might've left for him to hear. But he could see her, the translucence of her spectral body lurking like a ghost in the corner of his eye.
He still didn't care. He didn't even care that it was uncomfortable, and cold, and that he was bleeding. The only thing remaining within was that peculiar sense of peace, and the mild annoyance that her intrusion had taken him back from the brink of seeing the storm's pattern, of understanding it.
The rain kept falling, and he simply kept staring at the rain-black sky, listening to the shuddering, restless ocean.
Halfway to nowhere.
[ @[Ayelet] ]
But the world was not content to let him lie there, and drift away like flotsam; and if the sea would hear him and rise up to sweep him away, it would not be without witness. Fragile—why was she out here, on the rocks?—and delicate, but no angel.
There are no angels here.
It almost made him angry.
The hush of her voice didn't carry over the din of the storm. It roared in his ears, howled and keened, and the waves breaking over the ledge drowned what else the wind might've left for him to hear. But he could see her, the translucence of her spectral body lurking like a ghost in the corner of his eye.
He still didn't care. He didn't even care that it was uncomfortable, and cold, and that he was bleeding. The only thing remaining within was that peculiar sense of peace, and the mild annoyance that her intrusion had taken him back from the brink of seeing the storm's pattern, of understanding it.
The rain kept falling, and he simply kept staring at the rain-black sky, listening to the shuddering, restless ocean.
Halfway to nowhere.
[ @[Ayelet] ]
