With Coals of Everburning

With Coals of Everburning 3/52 

Strode. Stride. Strays? 

1/ Forgotten Voyages 2/ The Delicious Girl 3/ Secret of Past 4/ The Shore’s Truth 5/ The Secret of the Way 6/ Stones in the Servant

/1/ Forgotten Voyages

“What wars once fought here,” he says, the students more interested in a tree’s nest being raided by squirrels as the evening grows darker with fading sunset and warmer with rising dusk. The horn of recall summons them indoors for supper and the great poem. The evening farmers misting the evening growth, the night patrols drinking their coffee and eating their breakfasts, the bats stretch their blind eyes and open their backward wings. The birds began together rising and scouring for sunset insects before the clouds give rain. Darkness like dark smoke brings ravens to surround the walled colony, then in the thin and gleaming twilight on heavy branches birds of prey. With the wave of shadow sunset steps a man with a walking staff, scars rising on arms from beneath his gloves, the other eye white with sinister expressionless malaise, a walking stick shoulder height knocking the dry road. A haggard posture and faded limp he grins as sentries meet and stop him, his hand raises and darkness explodes the air, the guards fall, the smoke vanishes. The gardeners bolt, his magic leaps from his touch to their heels, felling only one who regains footing and warns screaming. The lone invader removes gloves, his arm is branded with a scar of the symbol on the wall and uniforms and gate. 

/2/ The Delicious Girl

He approaches, hands raised in surrender, paces slow and face raised silent, but attacks with both hands conducting fiery wave of magic, the arrows launch in numbers and mechanized force, but only once. Spies and traitors erase defenses and wave him thru, the clothes stiff as if from a previous time, the boots soft and worn since a previous age, the smile of malice as some chase the escapees into the night forest. The conquistador, silent and dour, malignant in power, stares at the conquered. “Who leads this place, stand and command respect, and I will salute you.” Scared and reluctant leaders begin to stand, “lock them up,” he orders, offering the remaining a chance to fight their leaders or meet fate in this moment. A young woman prestigious in clothing insults, challenges, and when summoned, slaps the demonic shaman. He has her hands tied in front of her and put in the queen's throne as he sits, with verbose words he praises himself with pride in plans, great details of the battle between leaders and servants, as many cried out, ‘we are farmers,’ and ‘this is a council community,’ without logic or luck to service their desperate problem. 

/3/ Secret of Past

Weapons are tossed into the main yard, the first fighter is brought before the mad usurper, the girl screams for peace, sanity has left this place, “why?” he asks, “because he’s my father…” she replies, the usurper laffs and demands they fight each other, the father pleads against it, “in the desert we must hunt to survive, in war we must hunt for pleasure, but you... have found yourself in between, my revenge so well planned it is only sport, where there is rule or one will die,” he says, trailing off, as the father offers to yield to daughter, she runs at him, only to take his weapon and throw it at the dark shaman, striking him in the eye, screams of tremor and pain followed with black blood and rising rage, the air shakes as powerful and painful magic glows to heal his eye before losing it. She cuts the bonds of two and the three begin their escape. The shaman stands with bloody hands and rages at the sight of his robes unclean, “after them!” he orders, with a face that holds a solid white eye with vertical scar, like a mending of an eye made of bone. 

/4/ The Shore’s Truth

“Why are you doing this?” one asks, he answers, “revelatory exposition,” and laffs, “I think not, serve me, and I’ll let you help your friends.” “Never, you pekh-razh, sa-fu t’ghache, ghorlu’--” “ALLRIGHT, she’s clearly not going to help. Anyone else? Tell me where they’re going and everyone lives, do I not lie, they will bring them back, you are my hostages for what is to come, including them, the girl, the other two or three. Tell me or I will have them brought back only to carve them like a tree until they root not this world!” A boy shouts, “We’ve done nothing, this isn’t fair!” and the mad shaman says, “bringing you this lesson and you can’t see it, boy? There’s a need for you to know, and you will learn it oppressed, but fed knowledge, and when I don’t let you leave, you’ll lash out, bringing punishment,” the shaman’s eyes glow purple, the scared eye glows weaker, but darker, “if you die you are forgotten, if you live you will rise against the colonies of the holy sign,” his hands grow red and scars white running with sparks of electricity, tearing the boy from the ground and suffocating his throat, throwing him with a rage of sound, and stammers toward another, a man stands and faces, the shaman throws his bloody robe aside, only a vest covers many scars and the tattoos of their society burned into scars old and new. 

/5/ The Secret of the Way

The refugees ride horses distant and far, feeling lost in the dark as dawn approaches, several hours end as their path meets a larger city, burning, broken, a small army lies wasted among the dead and the homeless, waving their hands for the three to stay away, “what happened here?” she asks, “quiet or the shadows rise!” shaking and running away. “Something terrible was here,” says the one. “Something terrible comes,” says the other, pointing to the road to ruins, where twelve hunters chase into the city of ashes and broken stone burnt so much some into obsidian-like mirrors. Red sun rising cut strange angles and sad shadows everywhere. The eleven murderers are no match to the city the woman’s former home, so much advantaged they are dropped only one by one. A wire, a board, a spear, a wall of spears, unmounted into a pit of coals, buried by building, beaten, bludgeoned, broken, strangled, and the last of which backed into netting and interrogated. Stabbed and cut, their captive taunts, “You’ll never defeat the Prime of Verilor, he has power beyond--” she interrupts, “end him.” and the men do just that. Beneath a school in hidden chamber, hiding many in cellars, “how many escaped?” “not enuf.” “Show me the holy books.” and they find a book dedicated to research of Verilor. 

/6/ Stones in the Servant

She reads the words in a language unknown to me, next to pictures of ablution and magical combat, cavalry horses and riders warring in the rain. She closes the book. They ride back toward the colony. One sits on the wall at sunset, a pile of bodies, the other half in cages. The theatrical robe, the archaic eye, the dark shaman paces, a turn and he sees one man on the wall. Arrows fly and the shaman, “stop! They’ve returned! Excellent! Why have you come!?” “to battle you.” They enter the area, and three face the evil overlord. “I would like you to meet the twins.” behind the three, two men of similar features, large and unforgiving, not enuf to be identical twins, attack the three. Fighting quickly intensifies, one twin brought to knees swings broadsword, they dive and successfully dodge, the twins look to the shaman, he tosses them two stones, and they begin using the same dark magic as had destroyed their defenses yesterday. With sacks of wine the three, two men and a woman, pour water on themselves, but her pouch is cut and empty, so she is the primary target, the two men are undermatched against one twin, amidst the crowd of villains and victims in cages with animals. She is deft and keen, quick and mean, fearless and clear she defends herself between opportune attacks. The two men distract the twin demons, the sound of horses in the distance, the woman vanishes. The horsemen begin freeing the colony, chaos in concert and warfare in wrath, the symbol of these people on the armored riders shares the sign of the colony with added symbol. “Your place is impermanent,” she shouts. The shaman spins around, “my heels dig into history, my bloody hands have crawled thru the dead of stronger keeps!” “If I live, I will kill you,” she declares. He replies, “If I die, you are forgiven.” and they battle, again a knife thrown at his better eye, again his lost and raging scowl and fiery magic, an emotional scream and heavy flame from his fist, she holds up a sheet soaked, but with wine is instantly burns and she throws it at him. He dodges the wave of fire incompletely, tossing it aside he’s forced to use his magic to heal before scalding wine melts his hand. He pats the flames from his skin while being surrounded by the guards of liberation. One asks the shaman, “What was your plan?” he replies, “hold them hostage, get arrested, be taken to your king, but I’ll kill you all just as well!!!!” (thunderbolts and lightning, very frightening), but he’s walking backwards, slowly just one step in reverse march, then another, backed against a drinking well, the woman climbs from the well soaked, and cuts his throat, he fights to be free and she stabs to attach, a second knife to cling, he becomes a pillar of black fire, as all jump back, the pure holy water protects her, but steam weakens the barrier of protection, as she hammers and carves and cuts out stones from under the skin and scars of the corrupted shaman, as he heals with the last of his negative soul flame, she can’t hold safely and jumps free, she spears him and so do the liberation guards, pinning him so that he can heal with magic or fight and die. This allows her to cut out his heart. 

The traitors are gathered into cages as she tosses the heart aside, one of the traitors rushes to take it with him into the cage, and begins eating it, making his eyes glow with the shaman’s curse. 

.ch

6CH O-tu Bezhun

6CH 2018-06-21 O-tu Bezhun

1 Dwindling Sparks, 2 The Wild Boyfriend, 3 Shadow of Slaves, 4 The Pirate’s Gift, 5 The Game of the Tears, 6 Snow in the Eye....

1. Dwindling Sparks
The day is dark and by fire the sun sets across horizon that stares will see the black circle crawl into the earth from the blood sky, night becomes stars and in mix of fog and smoke the stars flicker, painted in mist and ashes for war the young young enter the city, eyes in the night they wait till each fire is embers and remove the lights of soldiers, the city is dark, the sound of pouring liquids into the dirt.

2. The Wild Prince
A knife falls on stone at the edge of the city, and the prince awakens with dread as alarm, he knows every turn in darkness and slays the attackers as they meet, he speaks to his men and tells them to secure the walls and work their way in, he fights many and is forced to retreat, into the secret hallways of where he was born, the centurions secure the wall by ending the invasion’s escape method and reinforcements, soldiers with torches work toward the city center, reinforced by numbers gathering from the walls, the black prince fights an equal, the red prince from beyond the wall,

3. Shadow of Slaves
The soldiers gather and the torch light warms the air and casts echoing shadows on the floor, the red prince accuses him of weakness for not seeking a war with the red, and of laziness for not farming with the farmers, the black prince lists the battles he’s fought defending the farms from him, “i’ve never heard of you until you began poaching liives, why would I strike at the night shadow?” - the red soldiers attack to save their leader, but are stopped as the princes fight again, the prince disarms the invader by wounding him, and offers to fight him hand to hand, or he may kneel and be executed, they choose gladly fight, their words are equal, their skills are not as the dark prince toys with him to get him to speak, but also ends him quickly.

4. The Pirate’s Gift
The prince looks at his enemies, markings all similar except for the invader prince’s tattoos has one different, he takes the invader’s sword, spending the end of the night looking thru the old books for pictures, the invader’s tattoo he guesses is a rank, and that symbol a type of pirate, but the sword has symbols of distinction only found in one book, of the old evils

5. The Game of the Tears
The prince makes amends spiritually by burying his dead, and farming with his people, a remorse matched by his regrets, only to be confronted by invaders in daylight, with an orange hostage, they make the hostage cry, they make the prince cry as he begs for peace and meeting of their leader, they set the hostage on brandy fire, the hostage tears sparkle with magic, the summer farmland grows cold as winter, a demon speaks from the body of the hostage-unburned, perhaps someone the prince knew, “you’ve taken my pet, you are the warden of a crippled age, this macabre prehistory and the demons that could be, awake in you” - prince “you stay for your death”

6. Snow in the Eye
“I welcome death in all forms,” calmly - their battle is set, “we share a heart, now we share a loss.” the demon waves hand and a viewer is frozen by leg and falls, the ground making them solid, the prince cannot wait for survival and attacks, the battle begins, the demon blocks sword with arm, and pummels the prince tossing him with battery, so the prince swings harder, but the demon is so frozen that the sword only pierces the skin of the demon in human host, with this seen and dissuasive the prince finds benefit in turning momentum against the demon, the demon does not wildly swing-about, for cold winter is slow and deadly, and magic breath of winter snow blinds the prince, a move apart, behind cart the prince finds axe, the confidence cuts the ice breath, and the axe cuts hard deeper, the prince spins about-himself on a foot and lands whole axehead into leg, the demon cripples to almost a kneel, with the prince’s own foot for leverage pries the axe away and spins again with a scream, the demon blocks the full-sped axe in air at his chest, losing the icy fingers on that hand, the demon howls as ice shatters, the prince thrown into the cart, now a hand-axe he climbs into the demon’s arms and hacks into face and throat and chest, the last to find a heart of glowing blue diamond, both are screaming, soldiers returning with torches and oil-soaked arrows, the prince chops the heart and hurts his hands it cannot be cleft, so he pulls the heart out with his hands, it is ice too cold to touch and throws the heart into the distance, the winter falls like a single blanket of rain

The soldiers check black prince and cheer victory, they burn the demon on the spot, the ice heart gives a single beat and becomes dark, obsidian/coal, the fire stops, the blue moon rises, the eyes glow again

/stop

Cryomancer
or,
The Demon
O-tu Bezhun (Cold Eye)













~ mjbanks

hay que sabiduria

just made a jump, faster than i thought, it's the longer way to go, and takes less time, i think all the messages went thru, i don't like going forward, i started at the end, well, i didn't start at the end, i just came from the end, even tho that sounds like i just came from the end of something and now i can continue, albeit that puts it behind me, it would have to start over, while i wait, on the world to turn, i don't think that makes all any sense, or some nothing, this is why i'm trapped inside a transparent stone with a tree growing around it, beith the lord a spark or fire, i will escape

veneno magicis aenigmate

'Two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying.' Arthur C. Clarke — 

Any good potion has a few vital ingredients and some essential elements, there are many purposes and their derivative supplicants, that is to say, there is a demand for some of the better ones and occassionally the worse ones, insomuch a second teir of okayish temporary fixes that are wanted openly as a response, for as long as treatment follows prevention, the cure is the illness, but enough political philosophy. 

I'm sure you know the basic potion types, as games as life, anything is possible, as life as games, some have their setbacks. I like alchemy so without goal i might trade with characters here and then... now and there.... so there's a learning curve, always consult your doctor before taking anything that isn't food.

You aren't what you drink. 

Energy for the body is a simple task, in places like hell or the clouds of dark matter of deepest space, energy comes from frozen covalent bonds of purefied matter, crystaline structures, in the middle world, a person is more likely to know simple quick energies and long energies found in foods. What the demon sold me, "it's for energy and strength" and it's not, but that just reinforces my belief that demons shouldn't be trusted. 

[possibility: Energy/Stamina/Health/Speed]

There's an array of vitamins b, c, and n, energy, light, and heat, respectively, so clearly a potion for snow, plus caffeine, but it also has aminos extracted from carnal sources, so it quickly activates hunting in both senses of the word, how well that can be controlled depends on the user. Activiating metabolism body fuel is utilized quickly, but in doing so requires more sleep and better food. I did lift with super efficiency tho. 

[possibility: Stamina]

Higher bodyheat, activity, metabolism, i began to melt bodyfat i was saving for winter. My eventually began to hurt and I couldn't overhear anyone, probably should've had only one. That kind of wear and tear is a warmth.

[possibility: Stamina, Fire]

Exercise in a bottle, the kind that could turn your hair grey if you have those genetics. I then proceeded to get a sun tan b/c I couldn't tell if I was hot or cold. I tried to exercise, not easily, to a next morning being stiff. 

[possibility: Stamina / Fire / Sap ]

Eventually I realized that it's an energy drink, not a recovery drink. With the increase of metabolism came an increase internal as the digestive acid i have for my iron stomach also joined the race, i quickly had to avoid meals without heavy fibers, raw vegetables and seeds became my new favorite. Maybe to much scales of reptiles, if i only had tonsils in my teeth for halloween. Anything acidic was out.

[possibility: Stamina / Fire / Venom, Sap ]

I also found out that after 9 of them you get tired at a sensory level and are down until a rest cycle or recovery by a comrade. I woke up craving bacon, salmon, and oats. As above, i think it's potion not a true elixer. I would first ignore it, and if not, second dillute it severely, and third add elixer to it. I'm still verping, and in actuality it was satisfying in the sense of stretching one second over 2 less pleasant days.

One of oranges, one of lemons, one of apples, idk if any distinction is relegated. I combined them at one point so who can say if theere was a trade-off for speed or focus. 

Species: (Null Value)

Mobility: Stamina

Element: Fire

Negative: Venom / Sap / (if Sap x 9 then Sleep)

Compliments: Mint, Oil, Seeds, Bacteria 

Designed for: Assault 

It made me normal and in doing so made me different again. I'm not sure if trading compulsive for impulsive is possible. Physically exhausted I didn't have the right fuel ready and not for nothing wasn't ready to feel different on a physical level totally separate from my emotional well-being, but that might say more about me than else.

/

M359: The Serpent Servant

M359: The Serpent Servant

Kylesa hurries herself into a building and urges the scared languescents to exit while there is vacant opportunity to flee and before the undead swarm them, they languidly leave their confines following to sudden swarm and are overcome. Sino watches Troy use his surroundings in leverage and springs from impossible distance swift and flighty, comparative to fain glory and realization commemorate, he sees Troy’s magic and gives himself into thought.

A powerless rise for any mischievant, doted by the soulless wanderers staring on Lilith in her glory, wandering malaisant extático and like them hoping the next hexed she seeks presents itself to its execution.

The phoenix begins to nest as saturnine in slumber while the bodies continue mounting consumed by walking into scoria and becoming ashes. In arginine ash it cools and continues to tire, the roaming shells of lives fuel an onset regeneration dilemmatic, Merlin shouts to Troy thereto the leaping rider startles phoenix into motion and thereof depart leaving Merlin at a defenseless start against urgent horde.

Several lengths of distance separated, Merlin enters the street facing Sino, as buildings burn do others cinder by the waves, of twilight approaching do walls buckle as embers rumble do crematories crumble, by a tufted billow of black smoke Sino disappears. In a ginnel passage, Sino finds two things, an exit and Ophiuchus drinking blood with a gaze and from a neck that are broken, silently standing drops the body and approaches him.

Oph: Nothing has changed, master Sino.

Sino pushes his hand to his chest and him to the wall.

Sino: Remember that.

Oph shakes him loose and walks onto the chaos. Sino places his hand on a corner beam of a building and closes his eyes, he lifts his hand and departs a glowing handprint, steadily the glow becomes a fire. r

The rain keeps the fire from leaping to and between rooftops, but there is a subtle resonance to the embers of remaining fires. Dour muddied vampires find Mara in the street, watching her walk backwards from the onslaught of infected, ignorant to her guise they pause as she flees.

Werewolves rush toward the vampires only to search thru the bodies and fell the infected, they turn quickly toward the vampires, readily armed to defend themselves but slowly exiting they point to where Mara has run.

Troy: Werewolves, what do they want?
Kylesa: Let’s not soon learn how so.

They aim arrows at wolves climbing walls, but there are others whom attack before arrows fly. They have leapt and pinned both Troy and Kylesa to the rooftop, learning their scent.

Lupirion: Stay still.
Canaris: This smells of Sino – get tell the huntress!
Troy: Had we, just, a tale of conflict.
Canaris: Simple boy

A short laugh, smells again, she trembles.

Canaris: This is not the stench of conflict. Go!

Berserkers depart. Sincerely she screams.

Multifarious contempt for decency, Sino continues collapsing buildings with rage and fire, over and thru flames of walls and rising ruble, trapping Merlin into an arena enclosed with the serpent servant.

Ophiuchus, flippant by hunger of vengeance only looks forward, Merlin steps behind him, his raised hand near the villain’s shoulder begins to glow, by the time Oph turns, noticing the light, Merlin triggers a large explosion of blue fire, harmless to himself, yet throwing Oph many measures.

Oph stands with esoteric time enough to be without words. The hole in his leather almost as wide as his back he discards his vestments of robe and jacket, his skin sheds slightly over the burn, the body long possessed slumped and lethargic is now mightily robust, muscles of rage and carrying the tempo of a steady heartbeat in his veins occasionally, a snake swims under his skin, as the snake passes under the back the skin heals. His eyes roll into his head.

Oph: This doesn’t begin to scratch the surface of my power.
M: Not your usual self?
Oph: Yes, waste your time –

Sino spying the battle decides to leave at first sight of conflict, one of the wolfmen running pushes him over a walkway thru a ceiling into a burning building.

Angered into alertness, Sino cracks his knuckles with fists and begins punching one as more crawl for entry. Three against one in close burning quarters, he hits each opponent with swift force, missing a swing he is hit twice before regaining defense before renewed attack, each strike missed he is struck twice over the same. His attack skill is double two of theirs, but his defense is the same as each by scale of one. His dexterity is less than theirs as they ascertain his stamina and begin to gnarl him, as they must face a black flame magic from his blood there is an evolving rage of fire and beast.

M: What hast Sino durst to thee to make my opponent?
Oph: Much that I must, little that I dare.
M: I’m sorry, but people change.
Oph: You don’t recognize me?
M: Should I?
Oph: You know me. I first took a boy to such not only did you steal my lunch, but you twisted me in the wind and left me in a road wrought of my essence.

Merlin’s face loosens to ponder, his head tilts to memory, of trees and winds of distant clouds.

Oph: Shedding skin having hunted you in a city with a disturbing amount of twins, I sought revenge, not supper, you then chopped me with a scabbard blade, almost killing me. Do you remember it?

A memory of soldiers and gallows of dusty roads.

M: You!? Perhaps I should burn you out!
Oph: You dare!

Sino fights the last of aggrieved three, despite bleeding arms and neck. But for battered across midsection, screaming with every shock by the time, he overcomes the final werewolf. The wolves’ hearts outward tears he while almost laughing. Squeezing the blood from a werewolf heart over his head and face he hears shouting from beyond the burning room.

Oph: Fallen, devoted, devour the burning world!

The dead that have risen focus on Merlin, in a gust of wind the proxy of foes tumble and theretofore the ghouls upon him, his hands glow and electricity leaps between his fingers and with their skulls in his hands.

Ophiuchus gradually steps rarely blinking. His host’s eyes are dullening and dry, sullen and red around edges, his tongue flickers mindless with each thought. The dead risen rise yet again, from floors they are bloody, from rubble they are dusty, from fire they are burning, walking toward Merlin who strikes them with his magic. They amass as he swings chairs, commotion brings him to hold a table top as shield only to kick it against a grouping of swarthy several and a bygone burner bashing a bottle of booze to burn them all and raise the acrid flames toward the gods. Forcedly, he jumps thru flames landing to surprise of a knife wound to arm from foe. He sends Ophiuchus to the wall with wind and rescinds the penetration.

The mist becomes light rain pouring enough cloud-cover to allow unnerving twilight.

Oph: I grow tired. Do you feel like dying quickly, Merlin, or should I torture you first?
M: I do appreciate such good timing. It’s good to have choices.
Oph: I think we all do.

Agnar, who some would say is twice the size of Ophiuchus’ host, picks him upward and throws him outward, but he will not be thrown easily, grasping at the sleeves he falls into the base of a wall that buckles, the fire has taken its roof and the rain taken the flames, but the center is a furnace. Ophiuchus digs feet running into the wall’s main beam making it topple onto Agnar. As he avoids fire flourishing and more of the insatiable dead, Agnar pulls himself from the rubble.

Agnar: Clip his wings!

Merlin attacks before the dead find him, thirteen exchanged punches and Merlin breaks Ophiuchus’ hand, he sets the bones and continues fighting.

M: Let’s break something else.

A hammering swing of anger starts eleven more and breaks the same arm, the limb straightens with his sign of pain.

Oph: Why are you so difficult!?

Seven more and he breaks the other arm, but Ophiuchus continues fighting, lame swings and shoving, a head-butt to weak effect.

M: Now I see your final moments.
Oph: I’m slowing you down, right where I want you, give up while you can.

Five absurd swings and he wrenches his foe’s shoulder.

M: What good would come in efforts just.

Three terrible struggles and Merlin kicks the knee to buckle bringing Oph to the ground.

Oph: This isn’t over.
M: Yes, it is… …into the moonlight.

Merlin snaps Ophiuchus’ neck, his body falls surfeit.

Agnar unburies himself by throwing the stones of the wall at the undead, Jonak arrives and cuts his own hand with a knife and speaks a terrible sound.

Jo: Give your hearts to me.

The undead begin tearing out their hearts and offering them to Jonak as they fall around them with black and blood hearts rolling. As Merlin attends to Agnar, Belladonna walks with pestilential fog beside her, she sees the snake master slither from the mouth of the body, to stop it she creates walls of fog to confine its direction. The smoke pains the snake and it moves faster until at the feet of Lilith who takes it between her claws.

Lilith: All this from a familiar…

She examines it squirming, biting her to no affect.

Lilith: I hope it was worth it.

She tilts her head and eats the snake, her eyes begin to close and she moans with a hundred voices, her eyes roll white as the ground and nearby buildings shake.

Lilith: Bittersweet.

ews - dark mirror

it was cold and warmer yet another night, i closed my eyes and began, thru the merciless awakening where the summer trees meet the first autumn rain, and earth spills over the ground to stones with scratchings like welcome, avast aprized afore, never fear of writing like the leaves, without ability to anger for the hunger and the noise, would it break for time of asking or the dead memories escape // tied together,of witch there are many weather found and nevermore, fields of eternal afterlife beyond the boundaries of memory or the skies that press against the skin from days that haven't risen as you fall into the stars, not unlike the unforgiven as a colony of mars, forgive the altruist inquisition or the terror of the river of time, the riveris faster at the end for the sand, but there are the waves gentle and disharmonius would my muscles rips to pieces to break from the depth i don't know all to catch the crying mountain or the drowning feildspring where the ligting chases fire into the bitterest of colds, even the ice know when to break or sink to forests far below where each drop of heaven's vapor coincides with ebb and flow, ifthe sand does all the thinking be the firstot me you show,

I rest on hatred of but not of canvas nor paint, thosetimes when the mind is blind between targets of direction because the blur and focus dance together, aware of situations like this time, i have seen, do i shift from thot to thot while you waitfor ice to throne, would you carry time before you down the river from your bones, the silver wasthe passage, not to lose awareness like a thred of fate i near the proxy and request another soul, i'mnot sure of what I do but this place cannot be home, yet a hole in the ground where the interned can stone their own, where ideas are but a mercy and in fairness, i pause to prove a point, this is what you meant by madness and worthless tho is bothers me, i lash to write the curse without a word, the ink spills as a window breaks, all a burrowing talon of the beast who counts against not hunting until toying with the quary, that this story could be stoped a condensation falsely trims the edges and the pain this hunt alone, should the mountain come to water, an avalance caused by predation unearthing