Whoa, you let your feet run wild
Time has come as we all go down
It all came together, stepping back amongst the horde to survey their work: portions and scenery meant to provide some quiet, calming ambience in the distinction of remembering. In a way, it would be difficult to not recall the bizarre, bewildering circumstances, the devastation, the ruin, the manifestation of jubilation rendered into despair and terror. But this was for the people, the children, the things lost in the perilous waves, and as Bastien gave them the final instructions, he struggled with what to write or who to portray. His losses were not so grave: Amalia harmed, but lived, Kiada wounded, but healed, Hotaru there, beside him, the rest of his fire-forged family suffering by way of lacerations or memories. His eyes narrowed in thought, pondering over the way in which Ronin and Remi had vanished. Perhaps for them – the unknown departures, the enigmas and shadows cast around their grief.
So he maneuvered forward, grabbing the writing utensil, not anointing anyone by name, a uniform, vague, blanketed approach, but knowing full well who he wrote it for. For those disappeared and lost along the inclinations of the star.
So he maneuvered forward, grabbing the writing utensil, not anointing anyone by name, a uniform, vague, blanketed approach, but knowing full well who he wrote it for. For those disappeared and lost along the inclinations of the star.
Yeah but for the fall—oh, my—
Do you dare to look them right in the eyes?
DEIMOS
