Feathers

Moving pictures projected on an invisible wall in front of me. Tears rolled down my eyes. I held my breath. I knew how he would have felt if he knew. “That day, I saved your life but in return they broke my wings…” I turned slightly and hesitately. Grey-white wings became increasingly visible, yet as they began to stretch, my limitations were obvious. Broken. Short. Useless.
The unfamiliar and overwhelming emotions seeped into the dark reaches of my hidden soul. A requirement of those who fell. I was taught that the soul create emotion. A strength. A weakness. I feel it now, that weakness, the pain.
He stood there, attempting to control himself. But, as I broke down in tears, he slowly shed his own. A drop of human emotion echoed throughout the, now, seemingly large room to be confined by the reality of ‘the bigger picture’.
I knew why he cried. The reason remains the same as the reason for my sacrifice, his selflessness and self-sacrificing nature. He cried because he blamed himself for being the cause of my consequence.
For centuries, I have observed the human race. They who are in essence our bretheren, yet act and behave in strange manners. Emotions were confusing yet many more senior than I beg to differ and, to extremes, envy their possesion of a soul.
However, now, I understood why.
I have never regretted saving him from his early calling to heaven. Though heaven is his determined fate, I felt it was too short. He deserved to live. However, this choice like many others have their consequence.

Kneeling before all those I knew and some unfamiliar, I begged to be understood. I told them I did not need to be forgiven for the right I have done. Then in unison, they replied ‘You have no right’ and left in belief they had said enough.
I did not forget. I knew our will. Our will was of our father and no other. It was the only law and it has been since the beginning.

Looking up, I saw his face. The scar by his eye carried a stream of tears, brightened by the reflected light, as the images began to fade.

‘Sorry’, we both said with a followed silence.

Within that silence, nothing needed to be said because all was understood.

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Rin. F. two birthdays ago

This was something I wrote for Rin.F., I never sent it because I thought it was to sad for a birthday present. I wanted to give her hope but it became more depressing than expected. Note the metaphors.

My beloved sister,
There might be a time when pieces of your heart seem broken or lost,
The king fails to break open your castle gates even without thought of reason or cost.
Your horses fallen fighting your fire,
Your men exhausted as awakening you seemed dire.
And your people abandon you as they see no hint of your return,
Yet I will run, walk and stand by your side as I see light in darkness,
Comfort in plight,
today, yesterday and every other day and night,
because in truth I have true sight.

I watch your people laugh as they hope you will hear their happiness and long for home,
I uncover the odor of your men’s hard work, as they plot and plan doing their unthinkable, until pages learnt pial into a large prison dome.
I listen to the marching of hooves as they face the circumstances with bloodshot eyes,
I wipe away the king’s tears, noticing the stench of unwashed clothes,
And still, you remain ignorant with thoughts completely your own while others bleed, cry and suffer,
It may seem as if it is impossible but we are here and with you, you are not alone.

My past and her past

Something I have written years ago.

They say time will heal.

They say that I will forget, sometime. When? I feel like crying but I can’t. Pride and honour, just illusions, and it is just the remains of my past-self.

I dreamt in a dream within my dream, stories of a prince, his horse and a carriage, just like how I wanted mum to tell. I, a princess in a home far away from my own don’t want to resist. As life’s journey will take someone to slay my darkest of days and long love’s longing will hold for generations to come. So my story will be told once again just like those I have heard of others. Stories told over and over. My life is a fairytale, my dreams are real. Reality is only a dream, a nightmare. Running away from all my fears, from my comforts, I feel ashamed. Why am I in a place I have dug and called my own?

Under stones, I hid. Pretending I’m not there. Wish this could come true. People will pass and say that I love you. My story has never been told because I am so small, just a little girl. ‘I am less than everyone else’ is what I said to myself. They say it’s not true and whisper sweet, loving words, ‘I want to hold you, hug you tight, and sing you a lullaby…’ Wish they would come for me. Whoever they are I want to love them too. Time will heal is what my memories has always told from someone i don’t know well.

Listening.

The lyrics, an illusion; facade for the underlying profound meaning.

Every note manipulated every emotions, bending those who were aware of its existence to true purpose, to feel the message conveyed.

Through different people the each song is heard, yet many sway under the intense emotions they are expose them themselves to.

Strange, is it not?

Some may say, humanity is what sets us apart from animals and what keeps us together as a civilized society. It is comforting to think so, as personally, it makes me feel somewhat safe and not alone; an effect of feeling a sense of belonging.

Humanity, though a strength, is also a weakness. Such truth has been exploited by those of the corrupt or even paternalistic.

‘Listen to the world’ I told myself once, attempting to fall asleep. Naive. I thought that by doing so I could be comforted. The world will hold me in its arms, but all I felt that night was the distance between everything and myself. Loneliness.

It was long after that I realised how much I overestimated the strength of the world, its power to comfort me. I realised later that It does not matter how much people are with you but how strong they care for you. Even one is enough… I guess this is where my possible, future lover and soulmate comes in.