Come to me, Come to me wise bird of the solace.
Turn to me, turn to me a blind eye on the sphere.
Drape yourself in the wings of morrow and fly towards the peroration of the lear.
Tell them of the peel of sin that lays beneath the truth.
Fly to me, Oh Fly to me wise bird of the solace.
Turn to me, Oh turn to me a blind eye on the sphere.
Pull into the darkness, the calls that lure the dawn of the dead.
They bring themselves a land of void, to drop those who are numbed.
The poem like lyrics drifted through the drop of darkness one would call night. A the shadow of a drop of poisoned dust twirling fastly towards the edge of the border. It dripped to a stop at the mere edge of a cliff, casting a longing blow of it's smoke out into the land of little living. It turned a moment to reflect, on the lands that they seeked to wreak havoc upon. They had felt that this was the path they needed to take. The path of destruction and undermining death. However now they were not so sure anymore. They surely didn't want to be as uneducated as those who kill without thought did they now? No, no they were a planner, a drop of intellect among the many seas. They were a thief that only worked for what they needed and not more. Yes, the pain was sour and bitter, but revenge would not make them last. So with the thoughts of their plots and the people they consider a friend, they made their way away for the next days to come. Leaving behind only four traces to which they had gone.
To the man with the blue orbs of sickly cold. The one with the nimble mind that sets intimidation down to the finest whim. They so sent a riddle, to pull at his brain strings just a little as they knew he hated it when they did so. Attached came the metal that scrapped the fingers of one and the neck of another. Cold to the touch as if it had already been left once before. "Dibbling and dabbling has taught me little, pain and torture has taught me a dash. Do you find these to be a solution, the pain and rash to be an exploration? Rash and unaffected they shall be, keep this in mind when you think of me."
To the horned man built of leaves.The one with the detrimental talons and the determination of patiences. They so sent two flowers, one wiliting and one fresh and alive. "The death of one can lead to the birth of another."
To those select few that rest in the nest of a falcon. The ones noble only out of fear in the eyes of the Leviathan. Though still willing to say that what they'd once forgotten. Steady and strong. They so sent a note left with an orange feather draped across it's lines. "Ren, there was no curse, to the rest I wish you the best."
Lastly to the kind hearted maiden with the cries of chilling winds. The one who had snapped the very fibers of the shadows of the darkly toxin that incase the humanity of the other. It was only simple to say...
"Thank you"
Tags: @Percuriam @Caelamus @ZZaque @katiesc @Mandyy_ @SpunSugar @Emo_Bunny
