And hast thou buried thy uttermost pain deep in the mischievous waters of sin, pleasure and joy? Has not guilt come to haunt you and your dreams? We are like gods of the sun my dear, you and I. Mostly you than I, dare I presume, yet we are both fully gods. A goddess of the sun, is not is a bit pretentious? At least arrogant to the end of it? But you are such, my dear. Arrogant, forever proud, forever strong, forever young. I’m the bloody earth, I am the flesh, the shell in which we both dwell. You are the ghost, it is me the sinner. Forever entwined as rose and thorn, forever departed as red petals and blood stained fangs. We are the rose, we are lust, we are sin. We are beauty, we are desire, we are deception, we are betrayal, we are the ones who feed from this world. Shadows and dreadful hours are yet to come my dear. It is not time to succumb to thine own theatre of tragedy. It is time to rise my dear.
"Art thou my truest love? Art thou a siren or an angel? I’m a child of the sun, just as you are", he keeps on asking.
What is it and what I am doing?
Still praying, but finding no prayer to say. Still wandering, still lost in the sea. For it is the sea where your heat belongs. Not in the warm seas with white sand beaches, but that perilous sea. The sea that is raving, raging, and deceitful. The sea that will haunt thee forever. That deep and cold sea of salty waves. A sea made for the tales of one thousand nights. The sea that feeds on blood, on fear, on you. That is what you are. You are the sailor, you are the sea. And if you really want to know, I am the ship, the ship built with wind and tears. I am the vessel, I am the sails, I am the wood and iron, I am the Sun. I am Dark Shadow, I am you, you are me. I am a serpent sky, I am September, I am the change of seasons, I am all seasons. I am autumn, I am winter. I am thy truest love, for I am yourself. And I know thee better than none, and I play with thee as I please, for it you who rule. As you take me out and play me to your friends, as a facade to this reality which you wish you could scape. For we do not belong here, we are meant somewhere else.
Kill me. No. We are one, one of us dies, so does the other. We were born in ashes, in ashes we will become. But not now. It is not the time to return to the blazing sun. No, not yet. Then kill me. Dare killing me and end the yearning, the universal conscience of us being nothing, nothing at all. But we are not nothing. We are gods of the Sun, and as long as we breathe, the Sun will shine for us. Not for them, but for us. When we die, there shall be no more children of the Sun. When we die, it will be the end. Closure without redemption, a dirge without a requiem. Just a flash of light, and then darkness. And velvet darkness they fear.
- Dark Shadow!
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1 comment:
Otai.
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