DAMASCUS
he was like a storm,
Damascus found himself among the moonlit land of denocte more often than not it might seem, and as he traced his ashen snout over the landscape and castle-topped hill, he wondered why he hadn't chosen this land to roost. Perhaps it was the people an their mystery, a kind he could not read. He was boy who needed transparency and clarity; a picture book not a thesis.
His search had brought him here once again, and as his starry eyes combed the trees and grasses for any sign of gold dust or a sparkle of godliness, he felt once more the powerful onset of doubt. Someone more worthy would find it, and there would always be one more worthy and precious than he. There was always one faster and more handsome, always one with greater wings.
Wallowing and bimbling his way forward, Damascus was soon upon the grounds of the Nigh Court and hisgaze fixed upon the impressive facade the age-old building presented to him. He failed to witness the woman leaning against it's stone supports, his star-like irises too greedily watching the windows and tresses.
His search had brought him here once again, and as his starry eyes combed the trees and grasses for any sign of gold dust or a sparkle of godliness, he felt once more the powerful onset of doubt. Someone more worthy would find it, and there would always be one more worthy and precious than he. There was always one faster and more handsome, always one with greater wings.
Wallowing and bimbling his way forward, Damascus was soon upon the grounds of the Nigh Court and hisgaze fixed upon the impressive facade the age-old building presented to him. He failed to witness the woman leaning against it's stone supports, his star-like irises too greedily watching the windows and tresses.
