NATE
Who could ask to be unbroken
or be brave again?
or be brave again?
Or honey hope even on this side
of the grave again?
of the grave again?
The shrine in the woodlands was not necessarily the most accessible one, but it was the one Nate liked best, so making the trip didn’t feel like such a hassle. It felt private, almost intimate, and spiritual enough to scratch the weird part of him that insisted he take all of this seriously.
Nate set out his offering, a scalpel used until it was dull, though the metal still shone in the dull light the shrine gave off. He thought the Voice might appreciate a tool used to limits of his usefulness, for the meaning behind it if nothing else. ”Mother.” He calls into the night, kneeling and facing the tree. ”I’m sorry to bother you, but I would like to ask a question. And feed.” Now that he knew the difference between blood and the fluid the Voice offered, he knew which was more satisfying.
Nate set out his offering, a scalpel used until it was dull, though the metal still shone in the dull light the shrine gave off. He thought the Voice might appreciate a tool used to limits of his usefulness, for the meaning behind it if nothing else. ”Mother.” He calls into the night, kneeling and facing the tree. ”I’m sorry to bother you, but I would like to ask a question. And feed.” Now that he knew the difference between blood and the fluid the Voice offered, he knew which was more satisfying.
And who could ask it to be sound
or to feel saved again?
or to feel saved again?
But stick around until you hear
that music play again
that music play again
