There are things that happen to us. Terrible things. Things that we want to happen. There is no chance that we can stop, the ride is too fast, too long... to furious. It cannot be stopped, only endured and experienced. We few, we happy few.... we are going to experience terrible things....
.... wonderful things....
Things like piracy....
Feeling your ship shudder underneath you as another volley fires into the target. Doesn't matter who the enemy is, what they stand for... loyalist or rebel, miner or trader... I want what they have. I want their ship peeled back like an overripe fruit that has burst....
Things like violence....
Fighting in the taverna on whatever planet we visited. Drunk and in the mood for fighting. Fists pounding, boots kicking, bodies flying. Patrons and security fighting with the rogues of the meatshields. There is no such thing as bad odds as more pile in. We will fight til we go down, but we will go down fighting.
Things like love....
Sitting with Kazeraith and their son, watching the sun go down. The moons and the planet bright in the sky, the sounds of the reserve, the animals and birds loud. So peaceful, so tranquil. Here at least, there are things happening. The love of a woman for her man. For their son. Two reasons to live, two reasons to fight. Two reasons to do what ever it takes... to stay free. For this man, for their son... she would bathe a world in blood, commit the sins of the mother again... all for love....
Things like... memory.....
So many months ago.. or was it years... time is fleeting and memory fades with age. The time spent with Carmilla, with Kim, with Esna, poor sweet Esna.... There was something there once... a respect, an understanding, a reason to live when the universe wanted her flayed alive and nailed to the wall... yet to remember the betrayal, so vivid so painful... so necessary... Or Ithiria. Pain cannot compare to the feelings inside when she was betrayed. Memories of servitude, memories of her touch, her love... her eyes.... and yet nightmares of the flight... away from her, slave no more... not to Esna... not to Ithiria... Remember the word.... freedom....
Such are the things that I fight for now.... Kazeraith... our son.... to escape my memories... and live free. No more will I be chained or collared or enslaved. For that I leave to Carmilla, ever was her way to submit, though never was she very good at it.... My heart is Kazeraiths, bound with chains that cannot be seen, tempered by fire and love. To be apart from them, for I must as people still chase me, still hound me.... that to me is terrible... and so I am terrible in turn.
Behold, I am back. Angelina... the darkness rises, the heretic is reborn, once more I will show the universe what fear means. I will show them terrible things....
Wonderful things....
.... wonderful things....
Things like piracy....
Feeling your ship shudder underneath you as another volley fires into the target. Doesn't matter who the enemy is, what they stand for... loyalist or rebel, miner or trader... I want what they have. I want their ship peeled back like an overripe fruit that has burst....
Things like violence....
Fighting in the taverna on whatever planet we visited. Drunk and in the mood for fighting. Fists pounding, boots kicking, bodies flying. Patrons and security fighting with the rogues of the meatshields. There is no such thing as bad odds as more pile in. We will fight til we go down, but we will go down fighting.
Things like love....
Sitting with Kazeraith and their son, watching the sun go down. The moons and the planet bright in the sky, the sounds of the reserve, the animals and birds loud. So peaceful, so tranquil. Here at least, there are things happening. The love of a woman for her man. For their son. Two reasons to live, two reasons to fight. Two reasons to do what ever it takes... to stay free. For this man, for their son... she would bathe a world in blood, commit the sins of the mother again... all for love....
Things like... memory.....
So many months ago.. or was it years... time is fleeting and memory fades with age. The time spent with Carmilla, with Kim, with Esna, poor sweet Esna.... There was something there once... a respect, an understanding, a reason to live when the universe wanted her flayed alive and nailed to the wall... yet to remember the betrayal, so vivid so painful... so necessary... Or Ithiria. Pain cannot compare to the feelings inside when she was betrayed. Memories of servitude, memories of her touch, her love... her eyes.... and yet nightmares of the flight... away from her, slave no more... not to Esna... not to Ithiria... Remember the word.... freedom....
Such are the things that I fight for now.... Kazeraith... our son.... to escape my memories... and live free. No more will I be chained or collared or enslaved. For that I leave to Carmilla, ever was her way to submit, though never was she very good at it.... My heart is Kazeraiths, bound with chains that cannot be seen, tempered by fire and love. To be apart from them, for I must as people still chase me, still hound me.... that to me is terrible... and so I am terrible in turn.
Behold, I am back. Angelina... the darkness rises, the heretic is reborn, once more I will show the universe what fear means. I will show them terrible things....
Wonderful things....
No comments:
Post a Comment