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10-21-2015, 03:56 PM
Lena I'm buried and covered peaceful under millions of stars
The promises were broken again, one right after the other – a cosmic spell of delusions and fallacies, wrapped up in taut, deceptive riddles and schemes. She was so tired of it all: the battles, the enigmas, the mysteries, the bodies and heathens and figures all trapped together in the same ravenous dance as before. As she watched them all charge, fly into battle to defend Gods’ and lands and titles, she wondered: what if they did nothing? What if all of them refused to fight? What if all of them stayed and strayed, lost amongst the ashes, the soot, the forest, and the water? What if they simply did naught at all, rejecting bloodshed, violence, and vehemence? What if none of them surrendered, but simply remained? Would the world fall apart at the thought of peace? Would sanctum and sanctuaries provide their own riots and revolutions, crack and fray under the opulence, under the grandeur, under the fragments of heavenly bounty? Would the monsters disappear? Or would new ones resurface, clawing and grasping and crawling across the floor, becoming one more fiend, one more demon? Were they ever free from barbarity? The Songbird watched; not enraptured, not caught, not enamored with the prospects of another battle. But as they swarmed, as they fought, as they grappled, she struggled with the notion of staying behind, of embracing the still, tranquil air, of not uniting with a nation of heedlessness and feuding. But then: what would happen? Would she be cast aside? Would the newest monster, some great, bestial cat, conquer and devour those she cherished? Those she left behind? Her heart ached, and her eyes witnessed more and more rampaging their way through the all mighty throng. Imogen passed a glance towards her, one of kindness, one of understanding, but naught more – she too was embedded in the sentiments of terror and savagery, rippling easily into the core of ruthlessness. Lena heaved a sullen, melancholic breath, wished and prayed and hummed under her breath (for the tiniest snippets of salvation to drift and drip towards them, please, please, please), and maneuvered her way along the outskirts – singing, wild and candid, dangerous and tragic, adding more and more fuel to the fire, to the inferno, to the blaze; tossed back into mendacity and duplicity. [Reluctantly Team Earth God. Uses fire magic; sings an inferno to add to the blazing tar and hopefully hit the tiger.] |
