It's taken a lifetime to lose my way
All the wasted time on my hands turns to sand
Moose and men and lions; it didn’t matter to the Sword, who had already concocted fire and brimstone and wanted nothing more than the embers to flare into eternal depths. To seethe in their power. To pay tribute to their contortions. To watch the rise and fall of tempests and voids and winds, coiling back into ashes, only to climb and clamber once more. Maybe that’s what he should’ve been doing – glancing at the cinders he’d been left within, and then stoking, kindling, inciting –
The request bounded against his senses, and so he gave them the sun. The fire churned wildly, ascending towards the top portions, where the flames were twisted and turned into celestial beacons, where rays might’ve spread, where the lunar abyss had no place.
Pretty people incited a snort, and the what is she like beckoned against his ruminations. “Vain.” A truth; Safrin enjoyed looking upon herself. “But will give souls her time.” She had done the same for him, after all, even if he wouldn’t fall to his knees before her and regard himself as one of hers. Instead, they’d concocted weapons together. Doors. Swords. Death. “Wise. Probably.” Maybe. He didn’t know who had wisdom or sagacity anymore. It certainly wasn’t him. “They know things.” A simple answer from a mind overwrought and torn apart.
The request bounded against his senses, and so he gave them the sun. The fire churned wildly, ascending towards the top portions, where the flames were twisted and turned into celestial beacons, where rays might’ve spread, where the lunar abyss had no place.
Pretty people incited a snort, and the what is she like beckoned against his ruminations. “Vain.” A truth; Safrin enjoyed looking upon herself. “But will give souls her time.” She had done the same for him, after all, even if he wouldn’t fall to his knees before her and regard himself as one of hers. Instead, they’d concocted weapons together. Doors. Swords. Death. “Wise. Probably.” Maybe. He didn’t know who had wisdom or sagacity anymore. It certainly wasn’t him. “They know things.” A simple answer from a mind overwrought and torn apart.
I'm fine in the fire
I feed on the friction
