Failure of the Heart
While we have locked, for many an hour,
Whileless in timelessness, turns not burning it,
Our choices in the urges given to us,
Titanic Powers are still Flowering.
Though we are desperate we are crowned by it,
The mandates and the sounds of it:
They are rounding out.
She was lovely once, a child with
The essence of a Noble in
The spirit that was bound within.
And I am finding myself sounding them,
The words that will surround us in
The war drums and the force of things,
That had been left unsaid.
For I loved her in the mount of it,
The thick of it, but drowning it,
Is what I needed, lounging here.
Aspael turned from child's Signs and went
Crazy with the Flowers, older than the hours
That never mean anything, first among the Thousand,
Derelict with cowards, like me, that never said a word.
We're so Loyal to this... child, her face pockmarked and sallow,
Her eyes all rheumed and callow as she puffs the Smokes, unhallow,
Given only to the reasoning of pains within from easing them,
And our Signamancy yellows as we wait here, lost, unwanted.
We were once a Power, drifting now
We are caught within the tides and shalows
And the wave will rush and sunder us.
And we were the greatest of the lone cities,
Level 5 and owned by a Queen, her love was sweet,
And we would bleed to make her smile, never let her scream.
And we were once the first of anything, a fresh intensity.
We walked upon the new grounds,
Long before the arrogance of Nobles
And saw the Titans' smile at our play.
We saw the fall of Eden and its casters,
The beauty and the darkness,
Eve the fallen tasked us
With the keeping of her covenants.
And of all Aspael had asked for
A forest to endarken us,
While we harken to enchantments,
And submit as she had marked us.
She wanted us to suffer,
Like she had, in the starkness,
Of the Titans' wrath, without them.
We have given in to freedom
From all Duty and we seek them
Our dreams, in Flower Power smokes,
As she does, in these last days.
We have given in to bleeding,
Out from souls that needed
To believe in something sweeter
Than the grieving for gods we've never seen.
And it would better done by leaving
By disbandment and entreaties
To the Titans for forgiveness, as Eden.
But we have never known the reason
That Eden asked Aspael, 'Believe me.
The only way that's real is kept secret.
My dear, just eat this.'
And I know not what she sees,
But her eyes are cold and priestly
And her hands gesticulate, no meaning,
And her Level can't be seen.
And Aspael is the meaning
For our Side, but she is weaving
A lie, while we are seething
Disband and CROAK and cry
Eve asks her for the freedoms
We try and we are crowned
By 'crime' and other blessings
That hide what should(n't) be.
But Eve stole a secret,
I read it in her symbols,
I'm a Signamancer, simple
And I write this for my people.
She stole what she was given
And though its strength hides limits,
It defers them to the instant
That you ever want something left unknown
And though she never speaks it,
my sweet Aspael is screaming
And I love her without meaning,
For I'm a coward, every turn count
But I hope her eyes and mine still meet
Before our side turns to defeat,
And I hope that I will not quite leave
This place without her by my own
For I've committed crimes,
And to love a pale child,
When there are no children, lies
Within the bounds of necessary survival.
And I write this as my Sign
And it will blaze from every time
I decline to laugh and smile.
And if she questions me, I'll rise
And I'll take her hand in mine
And I'll tell her my true crime.
And if I'm disbanded I will try
To tell the Titans, though I'm stunned
Forgive her for she's crying.
And I've secondary ties
To the Magic Kingdom, to my Mancy,
But I sever them tonight.
And I've all the other times
I've tried to write this, heightening
The anguish that I'm fine.
My Hits are full, but Croaking
Isn't just a pain of body,
But a state of fragile mind
And I'll tell her that she's trying
Too hard, to be the lightning
For love of pale Eve.
I'll tell her that she must
Seize secrets from the brine
Of waters that drown everything
That if she knows it all,
From the Garden's fruit that dyes
The heart in black and white
Then she should rise,
A pale child, and walk with me
Into the end-turn's permanent night.
For I have been
A failure of the heart
And I will never be that
-- written in fire in the air, one hex from XON
(NOTE: User received 40 Shmuckers for this post. -Rob)