- Joined
- Oct 21, 2017
- Messages
- 343
- Reaction score
- 2,157
- Points
- 383
- Age
- 26
The summation of four past selves, consolidated into one. Of aging, illness, and death. Your truth.
The heart aches, but faith is shielding.
You cannot hold onto it all.
That is what Gods are for.
Set aside your desperation to keep your last vestiges of honor intact. Tread the bridge of dust and wood which reminds you of your fathers cottage, its stretch guiding you somewhere nowhere as peaceful as the days you once spent there. To a place grander. A place full of purpose and duty surrounded by true personifications of loyalty. For beyond this bridge that reminds you of home, is a table of those waiting for you. A grand table surrounded by faces.
Risen from ashes many times past, breaker of imposed shackles, peer upon the crowd before you and see not glistening pity in their gazes, nor contempt and ire, but what?
This crowd looks upon you not in pity, but with hope and familiar expression. With patient support and silent cheer, clenched hands held close to their golden hearts, they wait for you at the end of the bridge.
They've set the table for a great feast amongst fellow kin.
With ideas of fruition.
And the understanding that just as many failures will come along with it.
If the tempestuous fires which escape from your combusted breaths while making your approach... If the thrum of an aching heartbeat wails beneath your pathetic chest... You must only do but one thing. When next a forceful shove is thrust upon you, stand. When the next your knees feel too weak to stand, then arise. Stand and arise for your people who failed to do so for themselves before. Reach the end of the bridge, and-
Stand and arise for your people at the head of its table, and where they once remained seated while you stood amongst few others, you will find to your surprise that they can now stand for themselves.
We put blades in the hands of those we meant to protect? Does this mean we lost our way? Were we not promised to become their shields instead? No dear sister, they put those blades in their own hands because they were given strength. Inspired to fight.
Because of you and all that you have done.
AND NOT AT OUR TABLE, WHERE ONCE A CROWD OF THOSE WHO LOOKED UPON YOU IN CONTEMPT AND IRE, THE MALEFICA OF PAST ENEMIES TRIUMPHED OVER. VALERICA AND THEIR HACKLING BEASTS OF NEFARIOUS CHIMERA. HAQET AND FRIENDS OF PESTILENCE AND SMOG. REYNA AND THEIR ANTI-DEITIES AND DEMONS. HIGH COMMANDS ARROGANCE AND THE DESTRUCTION OF A NATION. THE FIRES OF NOVEMBER 308 AC WHICH RAVAGED NEIGHBOR AND SOUL UNTIL ALL THAT REMAIN WERE MEMORY AND ASH. WHO REMAINS YET?
TAKE THEIR EMBERS AND PLACE IT INSIDE THE THORN OF ALL STILL AT YOUR TABLE. AND FEAST.
The heart aches, but faith is shielding.
You cannot hold onto it all.
That is what Gods are for.
Set aside your desperation to keep your last vestiges of honor intact. Tread the bridge of dust and wood which reminds you of your fathers cottage, its stretch guiding you somewhere nowhere as peaceful as the days you once spent there. To a place grander. A place full of purpose and duty surrounded by true personifications of loyalty. For beyond this bridge that reminds you of home, is a table of those waiting for you. A grand table surrounded by faces.
Risen from ashes many times past, breaker of imposed shackles, peer upon the crowd before you and see not glistening pity in their gazes, nor contempt and ire, but what?
This crowd looks upon you not in pity, but with hope and familiar expression. With patient support and silent cheer, clenched hands held close to their golden hearts, they wait for you at the end of the bridge.
They've set the table for a great feast amongst fellow kin.
With ideas of fruition.
And the understanding that just as many failures will come along with it.
If the tempestuous fires which escape from your combusted breaths while making your approach... If the thrum of an aching heartbeat wails beneath your pathetic chest... You must only do but one thing. When next a forceful shove is thrust upon you, stand. When the next your knees feel too weak to stand, then arise. Stand and arise for your people who failed to do so for themselves before. Reach the end of the bridge, and-
Stand and arise for your people at the head of its table, and where they once remained seated while you stood amongst few others, you will find to your surprise that they can now stand for themselves.
We put blades in the hands of those we meant to protect? Does this mean we lost our way? Were we not promised to become their shields instead? No dear sister, they put those blades in their own hands because they were given strength. Inspired to fight.
Because of you and all that you have done.
AND NOT AT OUR TABLE, WHERE ONCE A CROWD OF THOSE WHO LOOKED UPON YOU IN CONTEMPT AND IRE, THE MALEFICA OF PAST ENEMIES TRIUMPHED OVER. VALERICA AND THEIR HACKLING BEASTS OF NEFARIOUS CHIMERA. HAQET AND FRIENDS OF PESTILENCE AND SMOG. REYNA AND THEIR ANTI-DEITIES AND DEMONS. HIGH COMMANDS ARROGANCE AND THE DESTRUCTION OF A NATION. THE FIRES OF NOVEMBER 308 AC WHICH RAVAGED NEIGHBOR AND SOUL UNTIL ALL THAT REMAIN WERE MEMORY AND ASH. WHO REMAINS YET?
TAKE THEIR EMBERS AND PLACE IT INSIDE THE THORN OF ALL STILL AT YOUR TABLE. AND FEAST.
Last edited:
