Cold and warm,
The heat passing,
Between these palms,
The wounds that have healed,
Fading out the scars,
And bitter memories,
When you told me you loved me.
Thursday, 28 February 2013
Wednesday, 27 February 2013
Jumping off the edge with my eyes close,
Reach for you and you break my fall,
Feel your breath against my face,
As we stand nose to nose,
Hold my hands,
Kissing me slowly,
As my legs wrap around you,
Resting my head against your hips,
Sway me back and forth,
Like a child that was lost,
Here I am now,
Here I am now,
Back in your arms,
The burdens that weigh me down,
You carry me like I'm wearing a crown,
Give me the world at my feet,
Make me stop breathing when our eyes meet,
Will you be the one that makes my heart skip a beat?
Be the one, be the one,
Feel your skin like the morning sun,
Touch me again,
Feel the ripples run through my soul,
Stop the tide of the running sand,
Make the hourglass whole.
This the error that blares in my head,
The neon signs screaming at me,
Watch where you're going,
Watch where the seeds are sowing,
Don't step so hard,
The ground is sinking,
Colder winds blowing,
And still the signs are blazing,
Trails against the night sky,
Even when I lay awake in bed,
I still see them,
The warnings that keep me up with dread,
The tears are frozen up inside,
Killing me slowly as they thaw,
Releasing the poison into my thoughts and making me scared.
Tuesday, 26 February 2013
Sinking into the warmth,
Velvet brown comfort,
Understanding in the depth,
Of eyes that see more than I reveal,
Will you strip me bare?
Lay naked this broken past,
And shattered pieces,
Of a heart that had loved once,
But I do not mind,
Because of this,
I am comforted,
I found the star I was searching for,
In the quietness of the night,
No fanfare for this,
Not this time,
Only a shared solitude,
And lingering memories,
Of tired pasts,
Like smoke in the wind.
Monday, 25 February 2013
Making me laugh,
Turning this solemness,
When you're acting crazy,
That's the way you are,
Playful, caring and utterly no shame,
When it comes to love,
It's all game,
All the stupid things we do,
Breaking all the rules,
Laughing and kissing,
And telling me that it's all true,
And it's just purely you,
Honestly, simply, amazing you,
Turn this day around,
Making me smile,
When all I want to do is frown,
And the gentleness as you wiped these away,
The tears and the fears,
The past in which I so often stray,
Catching my hand,
Before it hits the bed,
Every word you said,
Telling me to go slow this time,
Don't want to fall,
No more racing,
Just trying to prove it when you say 'mine',
Don't take me too far,
Don't drive me to change,
These are the things,
That make me love you and your ways,
You're with me,
And your eyes tell me it's ok to stay the same.
Sunday, 24 February 2013
Underneath the currents,
Of our raging emotions,
The wonder of reaching out,
And feeling more than darkened air,
The weight of your breath,
On the skin of my shoulder,
And the brush of softness that is your hair,
Watching in the darkness,
The fading light reflected in your eyes,
Whispered answers and promises,
This time unlike the last,
No more lies.
In the wretched mist,
I look to you,
And your smile,
As it is,
As we are,
Will I make it this time?
The rain is falling,
But why is there,
No water from the skies.
Saturday, 23 February 2013
Now that we're falling,
I close my eyes,
Don't want to be reminded,
That it's wrong,
How could I have known,
Right times, wrong one,
It's not like that anymore,
Yet they don't understand,
But with you,
It seems like time stops in mid-run,
How am I to do this again,
And the crying,
What do I do,
When it's time to choose,
And the world knows what I will lose,
If I take away the one who loves me best.
Friday, 22 February 2013
It's in the way we speak,
The sentences left unsaid,
Every dead memory,
Hanging in our heads,
As we try to cover up wounds,
That should never have been made,
Pretending to smile,
While inside everything is crumbling,
But we cannot say it,
It comes out,
A forced laugh instead,
And we put on our masks,
Join this endless masquerade,
Playing the game of fate,
Gambling away what would have been happiness,
Feeling the wretchedness,
But still the words we could not speak in the day,
It comes out in quiet whispers,
Accompanied by tears,
For we are still infinitely afraid.
Thursday, 21 February 2013
I have seen the life that flits from fingers,
That have worked for love,
And clenched in silent pain,
Traced every smile that curves,
On your lips,
With invisible hands,
Although I can hear you say my name,
And feel the heat of you on my skin,
Remembering the way you spoke to me,
In the darkness with the world locked outside my door,
Just us two,
And no more.
Wednesday, 20 February 2013
I have corrupted all that I touch,
Made them lust for me,
Turned their desire into a crutch,
Watched as their passion flamed,
In eyes that have seen too much,
And yet still profess they love me,
Despite my youth,
They know I know too much,
Theirs the passion that flames,
Burns to ashes,
And leaves it blackened,
A mere husk,
Everything I touch,
How can I live with what I have done,
When I see the loss in eyes,
That once bloomed to life beneath my touch.
Tuesday, 19 February 2013
You were my first,
As I am his now,
And the shyness in every touch,
Reminds me of who I was,
And never will be again,
In a moment of wonder,
I still regret,
That I am bound by word,
When I'm not ready to forget.
Monday, 18 February 2013
A little clumsy,
Softer still than before,
And just a little different,
What is this I'm doing?
Where are we going?
And yet not touching,
I can't seem to bridge this gap,
But not yet.
Sunday, 17 February 2013
Saturday, 16 February 2013
And so the adventure begins, We’re running along a highway,
Neon signs and alerts flashing in our heads,
The sirens wailing,
Drowns out our promises to love till death,
I still see the red lights flashing,
When I’m in your arms,
It’s late at night,
But the voices are crashing,
Burning a hole in the memories,
Of our nights singing songs to close the distance,
I’m still running and running,
Not knowing for how long,
What time it is or how we got here,
Just crash and burn,
The emotions tainted in fear,
By morning I’m screaming,
And you hold my hand,
Telling me its ok,
They’ll eventually understand,
The tears fall like acid,
Eating away at us,
And I’m still falling as you whisper to me,
That it’s in our love that you’ll trust.
Friday, 15 February 2013
Like yesterday I was on a total rollercoaster ride of emotions. It affected me so much that I couldn't even take a nap. I love naps just so anyone wants to know. So missing a nap is kind of a big deal. I guess taking the big leap of faith a few days before sort of made me remember why I told myself not to do it again on such short notice.
Really, Heart, some warning would be good. Stop being so paranoid too. You're the reason I get migraines and all those horrible memories of past disappointments.
I think I had some sort of commitment-phobia after what happened last year. =>.<= But thank you so much to my dear who single-handedly got rid of my stupid paranoia and also managed to make me smile. =^.^= Valentine's Day 2013, I'll remember it because of you.
Looking through the glass,
I'm Alice without a mask,
The tea party's over,
The Mad Hatter's dead,
And all the good ones,
Are as insane as they said,
The rabbit hole's caved in,
The queen's chaos reigns,
I wonder if the outside world,
Is still standing as it is.
Thursday, 14 February 2013
I forgot the ticking clock,
Swearing to myself this time last year,
I would never hear,
A whispered wish of love,
I couldn't take it,
But you called me up,
And just listening to you,
So casually asking,
Reminding me of that hour,
That same ticking clock,
And when I turned away to check,
This once broken heart that forgot,
What day it was,
Remembered again when you said,
"Happy Valentine's Day."
I swear I couldn't love you more.
Wednesday, 13 February 2013
It should have been the happiest day of my life,
So why did I feel like I'd been run through with a knife?
Someone tell me if I bleed,
Because I can no longer even feel my heart beat,
The butterflies are dead,
Why is there none for you when there were so many for him,
That bastard who was the heart breaker instead?
Tell me why, pouring rain,
Speak to me in that voice I heard once,
When I danced beneath you to rid myself of this aching pain,
Tell me why, tell me why,
Speak in your whispering voice,
I can't hear you anymore,
Running blindly when I don't even know what I'm running for,
Tell me why, when I loved him so,
Why can't I show the same to someone else I now know,
Why is it that I cannot be free?
Wash away my past,
Let me forget again this misery.
Dear Lord, what have I done?
Made a man fall for me,
When I should've known better,
When was the last time this happened to me?
Why am I blinded by love again?
Why didn't I see?
His reason to love,
Is my reason to leave,
This beating heart which can never forgive,
Will eventually be dressed in a widow's grief.
Tuesday, 12 February 2013
Twenty years in the making,
These fetters are finally breaking,
The steel wrought promise is coming undone,
You who thought to hold her down,
And make into a docile pup,
This untamed wolf hound,
Can you hold her down,
Now that these fangs and claws are unbound,
Try the cage,
The whips and chains,
Till bloodied fur is all that remains,
And still untamed this light in her eyes,
She'll no longer be used,
Her dignity whole even if she dies.
I only wish,
That those days we had,
Were but dandelion dreams,
The white dust that drifts,
Along the wind,
In accompaniment with the sounds,
Of your low notes,
On the honeyed strings of your violin,
Played to the background of these ebony keys,
When we were young still,
At heart and naive in our ways,
And a song was all it took,
To spirit this twice-wounded heart away,
Into a castle that eventually evolved,
Into a gilded cage,
That took away my voice,
This lioness became a docile kitten instead,
And even now,
My ransom is yet to be fully paid,
If the memories were but dandelion dreams,
That passed away in the shade.
Monday, 11 February 2013
Here we go again,
Staring this familiar question,
Straight in the eye,
Wondering about all the previous 'If's and 'Why's,
Hoping it'll work out this time,
Afraid of might happen,
If there'll be hell to pay for wanting,
Something that can never seem to be mine,
Can you tell me honestly that you won't let me down?
I cannot let go of the pain yet,
Even if you're to be my clown,
It will hurt for days to come,
Perhaps months or a lifetime still,
But will you take this damaged heart,
And try to heal it with your will?
Maybe we're going to fast,
Maybe it's just a dream,
I can't imagine it happening to me,
Please don't let what I feel be a sin,
I can't say it,
These simple three words,
I can't hear it,
Without making this dam of memories burst,
Take it away,
Make it ok,
Just stop the pain from invading my days,
I don't want to remember the past times together,
Make this time a memory for forever.
We'll let the world say what they want,
We know our wings are flawed,
We're the one's who were kicked down,
The flightless for whom the journey plans were lost,
Rising now, we dust ourselves,
The bruised palms and skinned knees,
The angry eyes and broken hearts,
Of those who once tried to please,
The pen to paper,
The sword to throat,
Time to fight back now,
We are not about to live out the story they wrote,
Take back that destiny,
That dignity that fell,
This is our story now,
These lines are ours to tell,
The many years we spent in hell,
Of screaming devils and bleeding sins,
Discovering Eden with each pain-filled step,
We crawled our way out of the demon's den,
This time at peace,
With winged dreams and songs that angels sing,
But still so many hated our dream,
Crushed us and hushed us,
Even as this side of us we tried to begin,
But ink needs no voice,
And passion comes from within,
Even if you hush us,
I still can write out this scene,
Pen to the paper,
Heart to the ink,
And now the setting is proper,
It is about time we reign.
Sunday, 10 February 2013
The rising chorus of explosions,
Heralding the new beginning,
Bright red light,
Dazzling my eyes,
And brilliant bursts of colour,
Across the clearest sky,
I've seen in days,
And I am home,
I breathe in,
The familiar scent,
Of a new year at home.
HAPPY CHINESE NEW YEAR!!!! I'm home and happily enjoying the festive season with my family and furry, four-legged brother =^.^=
Saturday, 9 February 2013
“Welcome to my utopia!” the disembodied voice said. It was neither male nor female, but was musical with a slight lilt to it that none of my kind possessed. I hesitated, the doorway before me was merely a computer screen, I reassured myself. It is just a virtual world with a virtual voice greeting program meant to show virtual memories to educate me. A niggling doubt about the truth of my words had begun to worm its way into my conscious mind, but the voice of the man I called Father quelled it. He was the one who invented this program. In fact, he was the one who created me. Father was everything to me and I craved his praise above everything else. Father was always right…or so I thought. He always repeated the same lines ever since the day I was created, even as I lay on his table, a weak, uneducated and very much disorientated child robot.
“You must be brave to try new things, for without courage how can we progress? Did you think we made it this far with the spirit of cowardice? I do not think so,” those were the very words I had heard often from him.
Taking a deep breath I squared my shoulders, and thrust myself forward into the unknown. And suddenly I was falling, falling through a spiral of images, pictures of strange and wonderful creatures, ever changing landscapes of verdant fields and lush forests whirling past my eyes, a fall through time itself I believed.
I saw the creatures my electronic books told me about, the kings of the jungle, a pride of lions basking in the warmth of the buttery sunlight. A giraffe lifted a gentle head with liquid brown eyes in my direction and instinctively I reached out a hand for it. The image disappeared to be replaced by a bird, an eagle, soaring in all its glorious majesty in an azure sky. Its cry pierced deep into my bones, a cry of loneliness, and loss. The eagle knew of the destruction that was soon to come. A shot rang through my head and I cried out involuntarily. For a moment I was stunned, it had felt as if I was the one being shot. The king of the crags plummeted from the sky leaving a trail of scarlet that arched above its body. A single word forced itself into my mind. Poaching. The word, though familiar and often found in my history books sent a sharp rending pain along my circuit. “Is this Utopia? It cannot be if such things are happening”, I whispered to myself with my eyes clenched shut. I refused to acknowledge the fact that maybe this was the truth that I was meant to see. I tried to convince myself that the program had been corrupted. I refused to see the destruction, the decimation.
Utopia was destroyed long ago in a great massacre of the earth. We now live in another solar system, on a planet where nothing grows without a circuit and nature does not thrive. Even real human children are sickly and implanted with circuits in their brains at birth. Tiny microchips dot the surface of our silicon coated forearms, and without them, we are damaged by the poisonous air, our mechanical lungs would shrivel and we would eventually die. Even with them, we do not live past sixty years old. The human children have even fewer years to survive. The scene had changed again while I was deep in my own reflections, and the voice spoke again.
You see what became of the earth? Our earth? The voice penetrated my mind and yet it was not intrusive. However it was no longer the voice from the computer program. Now it sounded almost feminine, ageless and warm, yet infinitely sad. There was a sigh like the sound of wind on the sand dunes. Like the howl of a she-wolf mourning the loss of her pups. It had to be Mother Earth, my heart told me although I had been told that no such being existed. The earth is not a living creature, Father once told me. It has no voice; it has no spirit or soul. But yet, here I am, in a spiral of memories not my own with a voice I now know, does not belong in the program.
Can you see what they have done to me? My children, my poor, poor children, slaughtered for the whims and fancies of fickle minded humans! But you, you are not human, the voice softened. What are you? Your flesh is like none I have ever seen or known. You are a made human, yes? I bowed my head, my fists curling and leaving the crescent moon indents of my fingernails on the soft silicon of my palm. “No, indeed I am not human,” I replied softly. I was not even sure whether I spoke aloud to the creature in the program but she seemed to hear me anyway. The flashes of pictures were still coiling around me and I glimpsed a gazelle springing into the air in graceful leaps. “I am a creation of Father. He made me to replace the child he lost. I am merely a duplicate, a robot clone,” I explained. He is mad! It is an abomination to make creatures! The voice became shriller and filled with rage. I dipped my head, for the umpteenth time, ashamed that I was being called an abomination. I am sorry; I did not mean to hurt you. He must have made you very well to be able to feel pain and sorrow. I nodded, not trusting my voice. Watch then and I shall show you the true meaning of Utopia even though you are not of this world. Welcome to my Utopia…made-child. The images swirling around me came to a stop and a particular image began to grow larger and larger, until it was all that filled my vision.
I thought it was heaven. There was no word to describe the exquisite beauty of the landscape before my eyes. Green rolling hills swathed with multi coloured blooms and skies of cerulean blue dotted with the minute shapes of birds flying in a v-formation. Migration, the voice said, vaguely amused at the fact that I did not know why the birds were flying south. Flash. Another landscape, this time it was a marshland. The waters rippled with activity, the love songs of bull frogs and crickets filling the air. A fish leaped up with a splash of crystal water droplets, its scales shining bronze and red in the glow of the setting sun. Trees dipped their boughs into the water as if thirsty and the squawks of birds joined in the symphony of nature. This is nature at its best, the voice chimed in, a note of pride in its words. At that moment, robot clone or child, I did not care. I felt full to bursting with the sheer beauty of it all. Then suddenly the voice spoke again in a tone that was now full of a boundless, immeasurable sadness.
This is what happened when humans decided that they no longer cared for me. A feeling of sorrow overwhelmed me to the point of suffocation. If I could cry I would have. Right before my eyes a dark cloud gathered in the distance of all three scenes, swallowing up the light. It began to rain. As the drops fell, the grass withered and the bark of the slender trees peeled off and became shriveled. Acid rain, the voice whispered. The water turned grey and the fish floated up, dead open eyes unseeing and glazed over. Water pollution, came the weary answer. A gasp of horror escaped before I could clamp down on it. Yes this is what they did to me, the voice sighed. They poisoned my soil and burned my trees, polluted my water and killed the beasts, flooded the valleys and leveled the hills, built cement forests and metal animals.
The voice had taken on a sing song quality that lulled me into a trance like state even as it spoke. The last thing I heard was that maternal voice telling me, whispering to me. Do not let this happen again, it must never come to pass. Save your planet and make it the way it was before, you have the power to create your own utopia…or destroy it.
When I awoke, the voice and all the images were gone. Only the softly humming doorway and Father’s face looking concernedly at me as he crouched over my still body. “We must bring back nature. You were wrong about the earth. She has a spirit and a soul. She is in every one of you, humans. She must be brought back,” I cried hysterically. Wetness trickled from my glass eyes. “What?” I whispered as my fingers came away drenched. “What is this liquid?” my voice wavered. “You are crying, daughter,” my Father said. His voice was mingled with another voice more familiar to me than his. Hands gently touched my artificial silicon covered cheek as the world turned dark before my eyes.
Wake up. Wake up, it’s time to go home. My lashes fluttered open and my eyes widened as I saw my mother and the line of trees behind her. My mother wore a perplexed look on her face as I lurched forward to hug and caress the rough bark. “Girl! Come away, you will stain your dress!” she yelled after me. I was not a robot child and the world was not dead yet. I was me, a living, breathing human child. The word struck me. Human. And I swear I heard Mother Nature’s voice again. Remember child…take care of me before it is too late. You hold the future of your own utopia in your hands.
Friday, 8 February 2013
Thursday, 7 February 2013
Flightless nestling. Always that name of shame had been his for as long as he could remember. Aaron’s flock jeered at him through the opening among the skeleton of a damaged building. He was only ten then. His black wings quivered in shame, he tried to hide them behind his back…making them smaller and somehow less visible, he hoped. His twisted, twisted wings…how he hated them. Flightless…a disgrace to the flock. His heart cried out in envy as he saw Aaron dive like a hawk he had once seen in a picture book. Fast, sleek, agile…normal. Why couldn’t he be like that? His small fists tore at the midnight wings on his back. Tore out the feathers and threw them away. His bloodied fingers grasped at them, the soft tiny feathers of a nestling that they said would never ever embrace the winds… he cried, the warm salty tears stung the scratches on his back and sides…cried for the life he should have had…
Watching the sapphire sky outside the window frames. It was the year 3000 A.A., a post apocalypse world of winged humans. The only survivors of a world that once was. Drake watched as the fleecy white clouds sailed by. His curled himself into a ball, wrapping his arms around his knees and resting his chin on them. The wind whistled through the gaps, ruffling his thick dark hair and midnight wings. It brought bitter memories of how his father had tried to teach him to fly and how he had fallen from the ledge, screaming like a baby until his father swooped down on his golden wings and saved him. Everyone said he should have died then. Drake buried his face in the crook of his arm and willed the voices in his head to go away. His father had been very embarrassed, stalking away as soon as Drake’s tiny feet had touched the ground then. He left him behind as everyone else had left him behind throughout the years. The one person he had thought he could trust. The bitter memories tainted his every dream, turning them into nightmares, the perpetual presence of dark circles under his eyes a testimony to that. Now he lived alone. A life of perpetual silence and in a way…peaceful solitude away from the mocking eyes of the flock.
Shattered wings stained with blood. Red upon coal black feathers. Drake woke up panting, a scream caught in his throat. Subconsciously he fingered his wings, the one thing that had brought him so much pain…but yet he could not bring himself to make an appointment with the Slasher. A storm had darkened the horizon while he had slept. The thin shirt he wore flapped in the wind and against his wings. Screams rang out below him, startling him out of his dream induced stupor. His heart clenched within his chest. A wry smile twisted his lips. His new apartment wasn’t exactly the best of the lot considering that it was directly above the Slasher’s hut. Maybe someday that scream would be from his own lips. A stretcher carrying a prone figure lying on its belly made its way out of the hut. Even from so many stories above he could see bloodied bandages wrapped across its back and the obvious lack of wings. Drake shuddered and moved back within the comforting quarters and sights of his own home. The weight of his wings reminded him of the possible fate that awaited him below.
He woke up in the darkness, the sound of rain thundering down on the sheets of metal that served as a window to his pigeon hole apartment. What was it that had woken him up? Drake rolled over onto his stomach, stretching as he did so. The sound of a knife against a whetstone cut through the pounding of the rain. A scream. Then silence. There seemed to be so many flightless who now frequented the Slasher’s hut. Later he would wonder why he made the trip down to the dreaded path that lead to an unexpected haven.
The hut was smoky, lit only by a fireplace that illuminated the many wings that hung on the walls. Not as trophies, more as sad reminders of the cruelty of life and the prejudice towards the differences between the flightless and the normal community. A figure sat hunched in a corner, gently handling a pair of wings, dried blood caking its beautiful cream tinted feathers. Drake’s foot scraped against a stool making him gasp in surprise. The figure turned, and for the first time, Drake saw the Slasher. The one whom so many of the flock feared. The one whose walls were decorated with so many bitter memories. The same one who now had tears running down her face for a lost future of her own and many others whose wings she had cut.
With short black hair framing her face in the firelight, she never once looked like someone who would tear the wings off any creature, much less one like herself. Her eyes hardened over as she saw Drake’s deformed wings, tightly folded against his back. Alarmed, Drake took a step back at the coldness in her eyes. “Are you here to take them off as well?” her voice echoed eerily in the silence of the hut. Drake shook his head mutely, wondering what had possessed him to come so far. “Then…why are you here?” she touched the wings in her hands with a hand that showed none of a Slasher’s abilities. They were soft and pale, weak almost. Drake opened his mouth, promptly shutting it again as she rose from her place by the fire. Now that she stood tall against the light, Drake saw something he hadn’t noticed until now. The Slasher was as flightless as he was.
“What do you want here?” she repeated. Drake stood transfixed by the sudden discovery. The Slasher fingered her flame coloured wing almost self consciously. “I…” Drake wet his lips and tried again “I always thought that you were like the flock,”. A short bark of a laugh escape, surprising the both of them. A grimace twisted her lips as she recalled a memory that she had fought so hard to hide and yet was forced to relive every day of her life.
“Sora! Come up here! Come fly with me!” Cho screamed with all the excitement of a nestling who had just learned to fly. Sora scrambled up to the edge of the metal skeleton, spreading her wings to keep her balance as she did so. High up above her, Cho glided along the wind currents, her baby wings still wobbly. Just below, Tenchi swooped and spiraled, always within reach just in case Cho fell. Sora’s heart soared as she watched him fly, his wings confident and his skin sun kissed, a testimony to the time he spent flying in the sun. Up above Cho yelled again, urging her up. Tenchi smiled at her as she climbed into the sky, red wings flashing like fire. Spreading her wings to their full length, she skimmed along the edge of a cloud, playing hide and seek among the cold wet stuff. She could see the top of Tenchi’s head with its trademark black hair pop up just within her reach. Like a hawk she dived, thinking to pounce on him and surprise him. That was the biggest mistake that cost her the only love she knew and years of pain and regret. The black patch moved sideways at the last moment, and suddenly, Sora realized…she was spiraling down too fast…she was out of control.
Bursting from the cover of the clouds she had no time to even scream when she saw the sharp stakes of an unfinished metal skeleton right below her. Her wings paralysed by fear, she barely heard Cho scream her name, barely felt Tenchi swooping down before her – until she saw his face before hers, gasping, blood-spattered. Three inches of sharp metal protruded from his ribs, the wound spurting blood even as his weakening hands held her away from it. He threw her to the side, away from the metal stake, the effort embedding the stake further into himself and tearing Sora’s left wing off in the process. Cho landed clumsily by Sora’s side on the cement landing. The impact from being tossed aside had woken Sora from her shock-induced state. “Tenchi!!!” she screamed. The prone figure told her the truth even before she reached him. His selfless act had saved her but at the cost of his own life…and her ability to ever ride the winds again. The cry that tore itself from her throat was the raw cry of a bird whose mate is lost to the hunter. On the ground a torn red wing lay bleeding…
Was that the same look on his face when he thought of his own flightless wings? Drake wondered. The dark shadows beneath her eyes seemed to mirror his. Sora…she stood there in the firelight, shaking. But there were no tears on her face although he knew that the regret ran deep within her. “Cho committed suicide when they told her I would never fly again. My sister thought that it had been her fault that I had lost it all. Why...why didn’t she remember that she was all I had left? Why did she leave me too? Cho and Tenchi…my butterfly and my angel…” her voice faded away as her head drooped, her hair falling forward like a silk curtain to shield her face, but the words had already cut into Drake’s heart. Didn’t his father think of that too when he left him? Why did he leave his own son out there on the ledge. Never turning back. After all these years and no one from his past had ever come to find him. To tell him that it was alright to come home. To tell him that he was still his son after all. He bowed his head. He had lost it all too the day he ran away. When he looked her in the eyes, they were brimming with unshed tears. But whether they were tears of pain and regret or relief of finally being able to let go of a burden she had carried alone…he never knew.
The hut just below the metal monstrosity Drake used to call home was often frequented by flightless. And no one came out bloodied anymore. No one lost any wings to the blade of the Slasher ever again. The wings that hung on the walls were replaced by a single red wing, its feathers scarred and torn. A symbol of hope and acceptance that still rang with the echo of Cho’s last words on that fateful day. The very words that brought two strangers together and made two outcasts find acceptance in each other. Come fly with me…
Wednesday, 6 February 2013
She wonders if it'd be too much,
To call sometimes,
Even if for a while,
And if it's her that he misses,
When he's alone,
Shaking wishful thoughts,
Out of her wild, wild hair,
He's the reason she went into that dark place,
When he swore she'd never,
Ever have to be scared again,
And despite the memories of him that linger,
It's not him anymore,
Who makes her laugh,
And whose fingers are intertwined with hers.
Fearless in the dark,
This warrior's heart,
Ever running after the sun,
The elusive one,
And she's still chasing,
The warmth that came,
One summer's day,
And took her breath away,
Racing after the heated trails,
Of the smile he left engraved in her heart.
Tuesday, 5 February 2013
Watching the sunlight play upon her hair as she helped harness the horses for the mounted soldiers, I couldn’t help but wonder how I would feel if she were taken away from me. The atmosphere before battle was not somber as most might think, but loud and merry. There would be time enough for mourning later. For now, all our kinsmen could think about was victory; their bloodlust filled them till you could almost see the battle light in their eyes shining like the sun itself. For those like Rogue who had yet to see their first battle, this was a momentous occasion. I knew how she felt, but that was a distant memory for me. The jokes, the laughter, the long hard gazes of lovers before the march to the Blood Chalice, all of those things were something I had seen before my own first battle. Before I lost my comrades who fell before the swordsmen of the House of Blanc. Now all I feared was losing her too. Or perhaps losing my own life as well. It seemed cowardly to have such fears. We were all trained as warriors, both girls and boys alike and often reminded that fear should not be a part of ourselves. Yet there a creeping feeling inside me that made my hands shake as I sharpened my sword. I wanted to bring my bow and quiver along but apparently we were expecting a light battle. I looked longingly at the bright arrowheads and the soft quiver before replacing them back in their box. It had been a present from Rogue in honour of my first battle. I did not want to lose it in the heat of battle. Somehow the cerulean blue skies and fluffy clouds did nothing to calm my nerves. The slight summer heat felt ominous somehow. Perhaps I was being paranoid, but I couldn’t help but wonder if this was to be my last battle. A loud bugle call broke through the merry sounds of chatter and laughter. My fears would have to be pushed aside. The march had begun.
The scene was breathtaking while it lasted. The bright scarlet pennants snapping in the wind, our long blond hair akin to golden threads in the air and the smell of grass that reminded us all of spring and life even though it was death that we faced brought tears to our eyes. Though of pride and joy or sorrow, I will never know. I heard the softly murmured prayers of the youths who marched with us and snatches of battle songs drifted to us in the wind, sometimes even the occasional whispered promise between lovers. Our stronghold was not very far from the Blood Chalice. In fact, it was only separated by a hill as it was with all the other houses. The House of Azzuro lived in the northern part of the hills and did not take long to arrive. Soon we were looking down the valley at our opponents. Clad in blue and silver, unlike our own bright reds and gold, it was as if the elements themselves were fighting against each other. Water and fire. Who would win? For Rogue’s sake and for our House, I hoped it would be our sweet victory that we would carry home in triumph with our heads held high. All was eerily silent save for the occasional jingle of a harness or the stamp of impatient warhorses and the flapping of pennants in the dying breeze. And the carrion screaming high above the assembled armies. I shuddered. The world was holding its breath. High in the sky an eagle screamed a challenge but all ears were for the bugle call that echoed from hill to hill. The rasping of swords newly sharpened and the soft twanging of bows were all they heard. A single sword flashed in the air, its blade gleaming and reflecting the sun so that it looked like a shaft of the sun had attached itself to Adurna’s arm. Slowly the sword fell in a bright arc and all hell broke loose.
I wondered when it was going to end. The pain was excruciating as I lifted my sword arm. A deep gash to my shoulder proved to be the cause but there was no reprieve from the fighting. It was all around us and despite having Rogue to watch my back, I was worried. I was scared. I know I didn’t show it because I felt my lips quirk upwards in a wry smile as I sliced through yet another blue tunic, spraying the ground with scarlet. I was merely working like a mechanical killing machine. I could feel Rogue’s light chain mail pressing against my back, the sweat running down to sting the cuts and wounds I had already received. Rogue was luckier. Still unhurt and strong, she dodged blows with an agile grace none could match but as the afternoon wore on, even her boundless energy began to flag. I observed this sudden slowness, this uncharacteristic clumsy movements of hers with an alarmed feeling. I didn’t want her hurt. Unexpectedly a dark eyed, dark haired boy stood before me, a battle mad grin on his face. I was too preoccupied with thinking. I had let my guard down and now I had to pay the price. The blow was sharp and the pain was followed by warmth that spread down the front of my tunic. Scarlet turned to garnet as my blood began to stain the cloth. The boy got ready for the finishing blow which would probably take Rogue’s head off as well, his sword high. Too high for him to react when my own blade bit deep into his throat. His blow never landed. In his eyes there was only shock and disbelief as my sword hit home. On the battlefield, accuracy is the deadliest weapon. I saw them retreating as the shouts grew dimmer in my ears. The world roared and turned black around the edges as I struggled to remain on my feet. I watched Rogue whirl to scare off any possible attacks and I saw the look of horror as she finally set eyes on me. I sank to the welcoming ground.
I felt so weak. The sky glared in its brightness and I shut my eyes briefly. Rogue’s voice whispered to me and I felt the cool shade of her long hair above my face. Sighing I curled an arm around her. This would be the last chance for me to hold her. She gently cradled me in her arms, arms that were lean with muscle from years of our mock sword fights and sparring. Tears filled her stormy eyes and fell, warm like rain, like blood on my face. Breathing was becoming harder. Perhaps that boy’s aim had not been off the mark after all. It was hard to imagine that all this while, breathing which was a seemingly simple act that we took for granted would become such a task. “Rogue, don’t cry. You’ve got to run before they come back,” I murmured with as much energy as I could muster with that one ragged gasp for air. So much effort to speak, so many things to say and yet so little time. From the heavy tread of boots approaching, I knew that my hourglass was running out of sand. Rogue began to drag me, each pull lancing pain up and down my battered body. Every fibre of my body screamed for release and the sweet eternal sleep. We wouldn’t even make it across half the battlefield. I knew it and she knew it. “Rogue.” It came out as a strangled gasp. I berated myself mentally for sounding so weak but this was it. This was the end. She hurried to my side, her breath coming in heavy pants. “Leave me. I’m dying.”. I shuddered and felt my body spasm. A cough shook my frame and I felt blood rushing up from my throat. What a way to die I thought weakly, drowning on my own blood. I had to tell her. This was the end, already the sky was fading in my vision and it wouldn’t be long before I would never see it again. The familiar blond braid swung next to me as she dropped to her knees. The whistling of the first few arrows already filled the sky. “Rogue, you know I love you right? Always have and always…” I didn’t have the strength anymore. The words died away on my lips as I choked on the scarlet river that barely sustained me by a thread. I wasn’t even sure that she heard me but I saw her face, framed by a halo of escaped hair against the sunlight. Like a beautiful angel coming to take me beyond the pain. This was how I would have wanted it to end if I died fighting. I laughed to myself silently, this was how it would end. That was my last vision before it all faded away.