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" ...black-winged night.
Into the bosom of Erebus dark and deep
Laid a wind-born egg, and as the seasons rolled
Forth sprang Love, the longed-for, shining, with
wings of gold."
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The words that start everything. This world can be saved.
The morning comes---the dawn envelops my chamber, archae-gaea a distant memory. I stand upon the ground of its protector, it's desolate satellite that mourns millenias of forthcoming events. What's a sanctuary to all---finally, a utopia---renders me speechless in agony. Like the sun chasing away the evils of night, being blinded by the divine is a pain all its own when one actually realizes goodness was never on your side.
I never fathomed that I would feel grief with the coming of what was known as peace and harmony.
Finally, I've put away behind me the days where I'd believe in sacrifice for this naive belief. I've been so subject to hate that I've forgotten what pain felt like, and ultimately wallowed in a faux hatred that was in reality, what little sanity I could grasp from what I believed to be insecurity.
Nonetheless...
Despite our towering buildings, despite the fact, eras and generations later, that our worlds and people have interbred and thus, put an end to our differences and have become today's humanity, I continue to live as myself---untouched and undisturbed---despite circumstances of my previous life. I promised you that I would see through my eyes what you were to see if you were here today. Even when things had taken such a frightful course and lives were lost, I still remember what you told me. And through this, I know I've reached enough completion to segregate myself from life.
And, in my position, I know that the sacrifice I once believed in was mere folly. Now, life has nothing to live for except for the essence of living and contributing to our "civilization". We lack a fight for survival, a fight to live---in fact, some of us throw away out lives as if they really meant nothing. Our lives are so full of absolutely nothing to the point that we threaten our kinsmen into killing us for that adventure and bloodlust we need and seek.
And though now, we have the time to find our true passions, a giant part of daily life is lost. What was once a journey is now mere burden. What became of heroes, epics, obstacles? No one's an individual...simply because everyone is. Everyone is an individual. Everyone is so special beyond belief that nothing is truly of value.
The danger you so loved and cherished---it's all yours now. A feeling that no one understands was buried with your sacrifice. People literally taunt death to attempt a mere mimic to the danger you'd know all too well. Life---true living---yes, that has gone with you as well. This is simply living lifelessly.
But back then, would we have really done that? No one back then would throw themselves in the fire like that. Your sacrifice was folly. Despite your reasons, despite the cause of your existence, complete and utter folly. No one is thankful for this sacrifice, because no one remembers.
And as I sit here, I feel the urge to sing and write again...something that I swore never to do for its devastating effects that only the gods helped me see. But ultimately, I think it's time to break another vow, just like before. As all we bards know and believe...isn't it our duty to forge lives into legends?
--Kavel Aeolus
" ...black-winged night.
Into the bosom of Erebus dark and deep
Laid a wind-born egg, and as the seasons rolled
Forth sprang Love, the longed-for, shining, with
wings of gold."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
The words that start everything. This world can be saved.
The morning comes---the dawn envelops my chamber, archae-gaea a distant memory. I stand upon the ground of its protector, it's desolate satellite that mourns millenias of forthcoming events. What's a sanctuary to all---finally, a utopia---renders me speechless in agony. Like the sun chasing away the evils of night, being blinded by the divine is a pain all its own when one actually realizes goodness was never on your side.
I never fathomed that I would feel grief with the coming of what was known as peace and harmony.
Finally, I've put away behind me the days where I'd believe in sacrifice for this naive belief. I've been so subject to hate that I've forgotten what pain felt like, and ultimately wallowed in a faux hatred that was in reality, what little sanity I could grasp from what I believed to be insecurity.
Nonetheless...
Despite our towering buildings, despite the fact, eras and generations later, that our worlds and people have interbred and thus, put an end to our differences and have become today's humanity, I continue to live as myself---untouched and undisturbed---despite circumstances of my previous life. I promised you that I would see through my eyes what you were to see if you were here today. Even when things had taken such a frightful course and lives were lost, I still remember what you told me. And through this, I know I've reached enough completion to segregate myself from life.
And, in my position, I know that the sacrifice I once believed in was mere folly. Now, life has nothing to live for except for the essence of living and contributing to our "civilization". We lack a fight for survival, a fight to live---in fact, some of us throw away out lives as if they really meant nothing. Our lives are so full of absolutely nothing to the point that we threaten our kinsmen into killing us for that adventure and bloodlust we need and seek.
And though now, we have the time to find our true passions, a giant part of daily life is lost. What was once a journey is now mere burden. What became of heroes, epics, obstacles? No one's an individual...simply because everyone is. Everyone is an individual. Everyone is so special beyond belief that nothing is truly of value.
The danger you so loved and cherished---it's all yours now. A feeling that no one understands was buried with your sacrifice. People literally taunt death to attempt a mere mimic to the danger you'd know all too well. Life---true living---yes, that has gone with you as well. This is simply living lifelessly.
But back then, would we have really done that? No one back then would throw themselves in the fire like that. Your sacrifice was folly. Despite your reasons, despite the cause of your existence, complete and utter folly. No one is thankful for this sacrifice, because no one remembers.
And as I sit here, I feel the urge to sing and write again...something that I swore never to do for its devastating effects that only the gods helped me see. But ultimately, I think it's time to break another vow, just like before. As all we bards know and believe...isn't it our duty to forge lives into legends?
--Kavel Aeolus
