I was born in a big gray cloud
screaming out a love song
As the heat of spring chases away the lingering chill of winter, Nephele is more inclined to visit the waters that thread through the Greatwood like uninterrupted thread woven by a hand far greater than her own. The water's noise helps soothe the thoughts inside her head, that which collects and creates chaos in infinite cycles as she tries to determine the best way to serve her newfound purpose. There is still much to be done, and it unfurls before her like a trailing ribbon, crimson and damning. What more can she do but walk that path? Aware that it will surely end in her own demise.
The water is cold enough to pebble her skin when she dips her feet into the shallows. Voice rising against the burbling current to sing in the old language that she was born to. Letting her thoughts recede, where they can untangle in her subconscious as she allows the here and now to be consumed with lyrics and melodies. The answers will come. Perhaps not today, but always in time.
The water is cold enough to pebble her skin when she dips her feet into the shallows. Voice rising against the burbling current to sing in the old language that she was born to. Letting her thoughts recede, where they can untangle in her subconscious as she allows the here and now to be consumed with lyrics and melodies. The answers will come. Perhaps not today, but always in time.
among broken chords and unnamed cries
what a place to come from
