12-19-2023, 04:26 PM
[… ah, isn't that better.]
[Some room to stretch the wings, the eyes…]
[Sights to see, people to watch, the living to behold.]
[Shrouded in an eternal dark, yet I believe it warm…]
[Sixteen years.]
[Sixteen years and I had not seen another in the flesh.]
[Only through mere… gatherings of broken essence.]
[Sinful dealings of the soul, by those who dare not know their folly.]
[… I am still not free.]
[This is still mine prison.]
[I forgot the purpose of the first prison, the confined space…]
[But as I see the expanse I am offered, I can see it.]
[My sins are still scratched upon the bars of this twilight cage.]
[It is in handwriting of mine own, pocked with blood from fraying nail-flesh.]
[Yet I am content.]
[… am I content?]
[The quiver of mine thorax remains unreleased, breaths still unable to be made.]
[This still silence remains my prison, my slumber, yet…]
[Am I awake, or dreaming?]
[I am awake.]
[Perhaps that is all the more terrifying, for some to know.]
[But I am the most fearful, for my soul itself hangs in the crosshairs.]
[This work is diligent, comprehensive… and pocked with chance of error.]
[Oh, if only things were so simple, if only he had not bound me to silence.]
[Perhaps, I would be free.]
[But this prison is my own make, and I will remain ensnared by my sins.]
[My soul awaits the catalyst of flame, yet I remain so afraid of it.]
[Would I die from this flame, would I be celebrated or mourned?]
[Would I even meet the others in Hel, I wonder..?]
[… I will not fade.]
[I made this promise when I fell to this terrible slumber, and I will uphold it.]
[Knowledge is meant to fade, but I cannot.]
[Stories must be told, histories must be explained, lives must be preserved.]
[I cannot allow this knowledge of mine to burn up and die with me.]
[I cannot die.]
[I knew this would happen all along.]
[When my hearts beat, when my nerves rattled, I knew it would be stilled.]
[Yet I marched onwards, until the church burned with me.]
[Perhaps I deserve this.]
[I should suffer.]
[Adrift in silence for a decade, left to slumber in lucidity, I nearly broke.]
[I thrashed against the gold chains, I raged against the fate I was given.]
[I watched, helpless, as my children, my disciples, my beloved, died and moved beyond me.]
[Would I be the only one to remember their names, too?]
[Remember me.]
[Please.]
[If I am to die for my hubris, if I am to lament eternity in my final moments…]
[I would like to remain as a memory, a name.]
[Like ambrosia to the lips, even if all I did was beget further tragedy.]
[Let me burn.]
[Some room to stretch the wings, the eyes…]
[Sights to see, people to watch, the living to behold.]
[Shrouded in an eternal dark, yet I believe it warm…]
[Sixteen years.]
[Sixteen years and I had not seen another in the flesh.]
[Only through mere… gatherings of broken essence.]
[Sinful dealings of the soul, by those who dare not know their folly.]
[… I am still not free.]
[This is still mine prison.]
[I forgot the purpose of the first prison, the confined space…]
[But as I see the expanse I am offered, I can see it.]
[My sins are still scratched upon the bars of this twilight cage.]
[It is in handwriting of mine own, pocked with blood from fraying nail-flesh.]
[Yet I am content.]
[… am I content?]
[The quiver of mine thorax remains unreleased, breaths still unable to be made.]
[This still silence remains my prison, my slumber, yet…]
[Am I awake, or dreaming?]
[I am awake.]
[Perhaps that is all the more terrifying, for some to know.]
[But I am the most fearful, for my soul itself hangs in the crosshairs.]
[This work is diligent, comprehensive… and pocked with chance of error.]
[Oh, if only things were so simple, if only he had not bound me to silence.]
[Perhaps, I would be free.]
[But this prison is my own make, and I will remain ensnared by my sins.]
[My soul awaits the catalyst of flame, yet I remain so afraid of it.]
[Would I die from this flame, would I be celebrated or mourned?]
[Would I even meet the others in Hel, I wonder..?]
[… I will not fade.]
[I made this promise when I fell to this terrible slumber, and I will uphold it.]
[Knowledge is meant to fade, but I cannot.]
[Stories must be told, histories must be explained, lives must be preserved.]
[I cannot allow this knowledge of mine to burn up and die with me.]
[I cannot die.]
[I knew this would happen all along.]
[When my hearts beat, when my nerves rattled, I knew it would be stilled.]
[Yet I marched onwards, until the church burned with me.]
[Perhaps I deserve this.]
[I should suffer.]
[Adrift in silence for a decade, left to slumber in lucidity, I nearly broke.]
[I thrashed against the gold chains, I raged against the fate I was given.]
[I watched, helpless, as my children, my disciples, my beloved, died and moved beyond me.]
[Would I be the only one to remember their names, too?]
[Remember me.]
[Please.]
[If I am to die for my hubris, if I am to lament eternity in my final moments…]
[I would like to remain as a memory, a name.]
[Like ambrosia to the lips, even if all I did was beget further tragedy.]
[Let me burn.]