Take your pick folks! If you prefer reading digital, Ebook version is available. If you want it in your hands physically, Paperback just launched today.
Paperback
Ebook
Category: Art
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Aria
The small girl whispers in the wind —
Aria of Spring A prayer for a true spring that is absent of liars and tyrants;
An older man, who’s likely her father, hums an ancient aria.
The aria is a song of old; the prayer of peace and the end of both fire and shadow. It’s the hope that these weary golden trees may bless the land with life once more; the assurance that the bewildered may suffer no more. It’s the certainty that ashes cease to ride with the wind.
The little girl, with her sapphire hair, experiences a jade green aura that blesses her body with strength as she sings along with her father the aria of spring. Their hope for better days is what keeps them together.
No matter how cold the world is. No matter how cruel the lands may be — peace is all they long to invoke.
Their world’s suffering has already reached its peak, as both fire and shadow have strangled the world which they rule in — leaving it blanketed in ghostflame never-ending.
They’ve lost enough and so much. The winter has been insufferable for ages. Their dream of spring is all they have.
The closing hours simply have a small girl and an older man humming the aria of spring — over a land barren from ghostflame with nothing but a ringed city and a slain falcon perched over.
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Living In Death Pt. II: The Unseen
Living in death.
Living in Death. The Unseen. Where you’re very much alive yet unseen.
To the living — family, friends and coworkers, you don’t exist.
They’ll praise and acknowledge one another but when your name is uttered, it’s as though you don’t exist.
It’s as though nothing was expected of you. It’s as though you mean nothing.
They will weep, they will groan and perhaps scream on your dying day but once you’re buried or your ash in the wind…you don’t exist.
I am unseen, unsupported. No acknowledgment of any accomplishments. Endearment is a fleeting thing.
They’ll want you to reach out but won’t respond to a message unless it involves your offspring. Unless you re-enter the fold you chose to abandon, there’s no celebration of anything in regard to your existence. Truly, a Tarnished of no renown.
You. Don’t. Exist. You are the Unseen, one Who Lives in Death. Just a living corpse among them. An outcast whose only refuge is retreating from the very reality that will not embrace you.
You. Don’t. Exist.
They’ll drive near your proximity in days, have your number to call in different ways and yet the relationship stays the same. You’re as one Who Lives In Death and to them…You. Don’t. Exist.
By the time they remember that you do, it’ll be too late. For one with a last name, you’re treated like a bastard who’s been sent away to the Night’s Watch at the wall — to never be seen or heard from again.
You. Don’t. Exist.
