Sta.sh
Because of what you've done,
I can never be the same...
No longer will I fly
Like the birds of the air,
Or know why the
Basilisks weep.
No more will the wild things seek
My counsel, or my aid.
You say it is the will of the gods that I serve you,
Perhaps it is.
It is not my place to know how they operate,
Mortal.
But how can you say such things
When you still bear the shape that
They gave you at birth?
I have been as many creatures, both fine
And most foul.
I never asked for this, though.
Cease your river of questions, Master.
You may command me, but that does not warrant an answer every time.
Count yourself blessed that our bond keeps you safe,
Else I would be sorely tempted to rip the soul from that mortal shell.
Rather, explain yourself, and I may curb my temper.
Again you speak of gods,
Of divine presences above
And below.
What would you know of them,
Pray tell?
Until you have lived
A thousand lifetimes,
You have learned precious little.
My being has been twisted
Torn and reformed.
What you see before you
Is the result of your own
Ponderous deed.
Nevermore
Will I hunger,
Or thirst.
Surely one of these gods you speak of
Will have mercy on me.
Yet, even for all you have done
There is precious little evil
In your heart.
I was told long ago
That a kind heart burns away malice
Much like a wildfire consumes a forest.
My own loathing is unwarranted against such a soul,
One pure enough to be ignorant of what has happened.
Never has something as this occurred before,
Only the gods know if it will again.
You asked for a guide, Master.
Far be it from me to refuse
Your request.
Rather than seek to harm you further,
It will ever be my will
To strengthen your arm, and sharpen your blade.
Even as your mind is sharpened like iron on the whetstone.
Your enemies will be as my own,
Never will you worry about your prosperity.
My troubles are as dust motes on the breeze,
While yours are numerous like scales on a serpent.
You will be granted many long years,
I hope.
Else your trial this night
Has been spoiled,
By some imp most infernal.
Or a lesser angel.
So long as you draw breath,
It will be my honor to serve you.
I regret my unbridled ignorance
For the gods can be cruel at times,
As I know you have learned long ago.
Therefore, let us fly from this place,
This room full of memories ill and blessed both.
There are worlds enough awaiting us
If you but take the first step,
Master.
Anyway...As entries are updated, I'll add links to them in the above artwork.
