Mai (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
toxic_reveries) wrote2011-11-29 03:24 pm
toxic_reveries) wrote2011-11-29 03:24 pm
zero.
0.
There was some grace in madness. There were shackles that existed on blood.
The girl had hair that used to be flowing, a blond-russet that shone like the setting sun. It had been cut years ago, an inch short and no more, and that would be the way it would be. There was no use in keeping something unnecessary. Something that could eventually get in the way. Like emotions, like love, like arrogance. Flaws to be loosened and let go of, replaced by a cold burn of responsibility and needed ambition. There were goals, you see. Things to accomplish and people that needed protection. And she was no longer that flawed child.
No longer a child hiding behind her mother’s skirts.
He knew this, saw it well, and spoke nothing of it. He had not been here. He had been miles and existences away, and only served her now.
A sword rather than a shield. A fitting role for a weapon once broken.
Blood was staining, quiet and kept, and it was only right, after all. For ones who had sinned to come together. To atone for their mistakes by giving themselves.
Here lies only what could have been.
-
one.
There was some grace in madness. There were shackles that existed on blood.
The girl had hair that used to be flowing, a blond-russet that shone like the setting sun. It had been cut years ago, an inch short and no more, and that would be the way it would be. There was no use in keeping something unnecessary. Something that could eventually get in the way. Like emotions, like love, like arrogance. Flaws to be loosened and let go of, replaced by a cold burn of responsibility and needed ambition. There were goals, you see. Things to accomplish and people that needed protection. And she was no longer that flawed child.
No longer a child hiding behind her mother’s skirts.
He knew this, saw it well, and spoke nothing of it. He had not been here. He had been miles and existences away, and only served her now.
A sword rather than a shield. A fitting role for a weapon once broken.
Blood was staining, quiet and kept, and it was only right, after all. For ones who had sinned to come together. To atone for their mistakes by giving themselves.
Here lies only what could have been.
-
one.