AISHA
lover, i feel your sorrow
pouring out of your skin
pouring out of your skin
How convenient, that the festival would be in her city. A night to celebrate death, and life, a night to commemorate a god. Hm, funny isn't it, how everyone is so taken by the gods of death. Mort and Ludo, his precious herald. Aisha hadn't quite forgiven it yet, for it's visions and tricks; Aisha is a creature of spite. If she didn't live here she might not have attended, might not have made a lantern. She'd really only come out of curiosity, her respects were hers to pay alone.
There was bitterness in her artistry, in the crude paper lantern she'd made, not at all as careful as the doll she'd crafted from straw and remnants of a warm gleam. It was black, with a hole in the middle and on the sides, where the light could shine through. And that was it, simple, telling. She didn't make this lantern for those she'd lost, she made it to appease. You will not have my ghosts, she thought as she hung her lantern, stepping back and reaching her hand into her pockets to play with the golden ribbon.
You will not take them.
There was bitterness in her artistry, in the crude paper lantern she'd made, not at all as careful as the doll she'd crafted from straw and remnants of a warm gleam. It was black, with a hole in the middle and on the sides, where the light could shine through. And that was it, simple, telling. She didn't make this lantern for those she'd lost, she made it to appease. You will not have my ghosts, she thought as she hung her lantern, stepping back and reaching her hand into her pockets to play with the golden ribbon.
You will not take them.
i don't want to be alone
if i am tonight, i'll always be
if i am tonight, i'll always be
