DEIMOS
the resurrected sword
Clarity and respite, intentions on wings and parallels to coast amongst and amidst the fronds of jungles, over and along the ripple of canopies, through portals and distinction, exploration simply for the sake of knowing, of knowledge, of wisdom of the open world. Why had they been sent elsewhere before? What had caused the abrupt alteration? Had it occurred to anyone else?
And besides – the lure of mist was almost too much.
On the rapture and reverie of his plumage, the beast stared down. The fog made it difficult to parse through what lingered below, and coerced, concocted memories of other worlds. Other facets lost. Other distinctions, a forest lined and edged with an abyss, clifftops carved out of roughened seas – transitory homes and refuges, glass and moons, and more things that couldn’t, wouldn’t last. And his avian eyes narrowed at the thought, because it was a tiring, looming sort of nuance, and he wasn’t here for that train of logic.
So the eagle drifted down, down, down, until the haze revealed and unfurled ground along its embankments, and he could land, still incapable of seeing the great mass and how far it lingered. Until the ocean? A pond? A lake? The uncertainty encouraged and compelled a movement forward, but for now, he shifted back into his human form, gazing out over the water.
And besides – the lure of mist was almost too much.
On the rapture and reverie of his plumage, the beast stared down. The fog made it difficult to parse through what lingered below, and coerced, concocted memories of other worlds. Other facets lost. Other distinctions, a forest lined and edged with an abyss, clifftops carved out of roughened seas – transitory homes and refuges, glass and moons, and more things that couldn’t, wouldn’t last. And his avian eyes narrowed at the thought, because it was a tiring, looming sort of nuance, and he wasn’t here for that train of logic.
So the eagle drifted down, down, down, until the haze revealed and unfurled ground along its embankments, and he could land, still incapable of seeing the great mass and how far it lingered. Until the ocean? A pond? A lake? The uncertainty encouraged and compelled a movement forward, but for now, he shifted back into his human form, gazing out over the water.
under the bludgeonings of chance
my head is bloody, but unbowed
my head is bloody, but unbowed
