DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
It might’ve been easier had there been a score to settle – some vengeance and retribution, the semblance of violent upheaval and renewal, a life for a life, blood for blood. But there was naught to come from falling debris amidst a mess of war; Enzo had become a casualty too often blurred along the edges, overseen, not thought about, until it was far too late.
Sah’s statements after made his shoulders shift and spine straighten, jaw clenching and unclenching, a feathering distortion ensuring he bit back multitudes of their past. Instead, it was only a rumble in his throat, a weight seething and bearing down along backbone and ribcage; eyes peering elsewhere. “Hopefully you will never have to experience it.”
But the Sword nodded at the distinction, the uncertainty, the weight of grief, the power and potency of depression, of misery, wasn’t something he’d openly discuss, and certainly not about Ru’s condition. At the last statements though, he could readily agree. “Exactly.” Supportive statures in the maelstrom; ports in the storm.
Sah’s statements after made his shoulders shift and spine straighten, jaw clenching and unclenching, a feathering distortion ensuring he bit back multitudes of their past. Instead, it was only a rumble in his throat, a weight seething and bearing down along backbone and ribcage; eyes peering elsewhere. “Hopefully you will never have to experience it.”
But the Sword nodded at the distinction, the uncertainty, the weight of grief, the power and potency of depression, of misery, wasn’t something he’d openly discuss, and certainly not about Ru’s condition. At the last statements though, he could readily agree. “Exactly.” Supportive statures in the maelstrom; ports in the storm.
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
