I will wait for you until the gold from the sun dwindles away.
As long as we have children seeking unrealistic dreams, anything is possible.
That one doesn’t count. The poor scoundrel is deaf, but he makes a fine sniffer. How do you think we found you?
You are sorrow. You exist, even if joy is present. You’re not like them. You’re not like any other emotion. Hate and fear come and go, but you exist even when the breeze is clear of sadness. You are permanent and needed.
Little dove, tread carefully in your dreams. You are not alone in them. Others seek them too.
A violinist fiddled.With strings resined for winter.Summer’s light splintered.
Raw anguish slithers through my brittle bones as the deathly call rots the air. Who murdered you old friend? The forest has no words to identify the hand, only erratic echo.
Let my sight end. Let the dark tides of Nyx ebb away beneath the white sands of null. Let our pale mother spread once more!
You deny the existence of magic. It’s tragic. Aren’t you a child born from the ashes of stars? Born from light to decide a life?
Over the obsidian hills and the sunken yellow dale, through the vast oceans of fog and the fires of nevermore, sits the fickle doors of the land of twilight. I will traverse it all, and execute righteous judgment on all that oppose me.
Be terrified. Nothing in life is certain. It does not owe you anything, and if it decides to take something from you it will. You must accept this truth. Accept the dreadful possibility that your blind optimism is merely a fancied lie.
We yearn for a stranger to poke around in our heart. Such an irrational thing it is. Flutter once and lunacy behold.
Well, clearly not. Goodness boss, just look at those filthy paws. I’ve never seen any fish carry paws like those. Usually they are cleaner.