DEIMOS
ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood
spit out the blood
For a man constantly torn between duty, responsibility, curiosity, and fragments of memories, the latter two won out for half a moment. Perhaps to see change, what had truly altered and expanded in all the time away – things that remained, things that altered, things that he couldn’t recognize.
Besides, the events of the festival left a very sullen snag in his spine, and after all the apprehension, the lack of control, he wanted to remember portions of self-possession. The Sword knew chaos and bedlam, fire and brimstone, and the sentiments of ice; conjuring it inwardly, along his bitter and rancorous edges, as he crossed over into a world he used to know. He hadn’t dared to ask Evie to join him – no need to bring both to the brink of torment.
The grass sprawled out before him, farmland long and reaching, as if they hadn’t tried for years to get the fields working. A marketplace, quiet and relatively undisturbed unfurled as his long strides carried him along the dirt road, and he couldn’t help the inclination to look for the familiar roof of a bakery, the telltale shutters of the bookshop, sprigs of lavender unfurling from gardens. Some still stood, outlasting the wake of the world, boasting over their ability to survive while the rest imploded and fell. The barracks were there too, but visibly altered from his days of constructing them; piercing gaze landing upon the wood and stone.
He didn’t bother glancing for his old home either; figuring it was another one of the many scorch marks upon the earth. And with a sigh, he began wandering again towards the rest of the market, striving to find something new out of the past.
Besides, the events of the festival left a very sullen snag in his spine, and after all the apprehension, the lack of control, he wanted to remember portions of self-possession. The Sword knew chaos and bedlam, fire and brimstone, and the sentiments of ice; conjuring it inwardly, along his bitter and rancorous edges, as he crossed over into a world he used to know. He hadn’t dared to ask Evie to join him – no need to bring both to the brink of torment.
The grass sprawled out before him, farmland long and reaching, as if they hadn’t tried for years to get the fields working. A marketplace, quiet and relatively undisturbed unfurled as his long strides carried him along the dirt road, and he couldn’t help the inclination to look for the familiar roof of a bakery, the telltale shutters of the bookshop, sprigs of lavender unfurling from gardens. Some still stood, outlasting the wake of the world, boasting over their ability to survive while the rest imploded and fell. The barracks were there too, but visibly altered from his days of constructing them; piercing gaze landing upon the wood and stone.
He didn’t bother glancing for his old home either; figuring it was another one of the many scorch marks upon the earth. And with a sigh, he began wandering again towards the rest of the market, striving to find something new out of the past.
watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same
then let your soul do the same
