DEIMOS
the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Deimos had never considered his trust issues an offense; but a personal line and tether he kept on the world. Being betrayed and abandoned by those he’d considered family, friends, brethren, and loved ones for years upon years, lifetimes upon lifetimes, had bent him into such a disarray that now it seemed to be maiming others, and that hadn’t been his intention. His brows furrowed again, eyes no longer tracking the shell as it lifted and floated along, making haphazard patterns before him. A deep sigh rankled through him again, not at her, but at the self-loathing. At the bitterness. At the rancor. At trying to become better, and somehow failing each time. “It was not meant to insult you. I have just been hurt many times by many people.” And he’d take the outward lacerations and the brutal scars over the inward cuts and slashes, the ones he wore on his soul.
Letting go was perhaps the most difficult proportion to all his crumbling walls and neglected shelters. So the Sword permitted a piece to float along – extending the shell back towards her on puffs of wind and breeze manifested – until it could bounce and bound down at her feet. “I set fire to a building in Torchline, meant to be a crime ring – one of Sunjata’s - because of my hatred for him. Because I wanted to help Ru.” Maybe she knew of her. He didn’t know anymore. His voice grew very quiet, a distant murmur, and perhaps it would get lost in the sand and not have to be repeated ever again. “I let the Warden know of my crimes, and lost my position.” Here echoed a self-deprecating laugh, hollowed and caved in, a shake of his head as he stared at dunes and granules. “I ruined everything I had worked for.” In three fireballs and a torrent of condemnation.
Letting go was perhaps the most difficult proportion to all his crumbling walls and neglected shelters. So the Sword permitted a piece to float along – extending the shell back towards her on puffs of wind and breeze manifested – until it could bounce and bound down at her feet. “I set fire to a building in Torchline, meant to be a crime ring – one of Sunjata’s - because of my hatred for him. Because I wanted to help Ru.” Maybe she knew of her. He didn’t know anymore. His voice grew very quiet, a distant murmur, and perhaps it would get lost in the sand and not have to be repeated ever again. “I let the Warden know of my crimes, and lost my position.” Here echoed a self-deprecating laugh, hollowed and caved in, a shake of his head as he stared at dunes and granules. “I ruined everything I had worked for.” In three fireballs and a torrent of condemnation.
for the space they take
and so, neither shall I
and so, neither shall I
