Misty River ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Soundtrack to the soul Every soul struggles through its own eternal battle. One side pushing its way through the field to rise victorious for a short time. It speaks to the divine... Inspires one to greatness... reawakens senses... Conjures images of angel on hilltop watching the toil of humanity in attempts to better herself, pike in hand watching the back and forth proudly, knowing whichever side may come out as the victor next the effort will not have been wasted. The two sides; her children. Not all is about the battle within, though that charred field of strife colors the world without. Every individual met regarded with the taint the angel is caught up in at that moment. Compassion and reigning godliness in the guise of a priestess guarding her temple or contempt and confusion for that which surrounds her. Her steps drew her forward; measured, graceful. Each stride followed by the bloom of life and the ichor of death, twined together in perpetuum. The pace quickened with the mounting chaos 'til she ran. The same grace and dignity in her movements as she wound from soul to soul, each one considered carefully. One restored to full vitality, the other rent of its essence. One hand brandished the staff of willow, the other clouds of sandlewood scented smoke. Was such chaos necessary to dance the dance of eternity? Sometimes her soul grew tired of it. The tug and push of right and wrong, love and hate, desire and apathy. She would open herself fully only to retreat again, deeper into the darkness as she questioned the point of all she encountered. When will the red king wake up?17:29 - 2006-09-26 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||