there is no glory in nature only the quiet harmony of dirt and decay
Tag: fiction
the sound of thousands of leaves wrestling with the pale blue sky
she works the molten metal with bare hands calls herself an exile a whore of the eternal forge birthing instruments of war for men and gods alike for a sensual price
armed with bone flutes and glass daggers an assemblage of faces no human should witness
not water not blood something no tongue could hold
thoughts derail as the flesh fights its war against winter winds
two skies have fallen one of frost and the other of fire a third sky falls in the form of a crystal songbird as illusion shatters the truth is harnessed from the chaos of felled lies
the lands of the first flame bears down hard on strangers where dragons molt in reverse turning soft before darkness hardens the underplates the sight of unlit pyres tell a tale of moksha the liberation of soul from body and from the clutches of the evercycle not everyone deserves it but a few do
the unthinkable has happened and time is at a standstill as we walk barefoot across a sea of ash while the world dreams we live out the sins of our curse
wanderers from foreign worlds walk a trail of silver dust high above a black hawk surveys their fate in keen silence
elancharan gunasekaran 