and bury it before it buries me
Elena has dreamed about what it must be like, to be a God. To paint the hills, vibrant colors of spring and autumn, to erect mountains and trees that sway in a summer breeze, to send the world into silence in the winter months. What it would feel like to create a world.
Blue eyes spot the break up ahead of her. The lights, the laughter, it is a promise that this is not forever. A torchbearer Lilli had considered her once. But she can only light so far, before the darkness swallows it. Maybe she can be a fire now, and blaze a path through all that she has endured this evening in the forest. The birds part for her with her wild cry and she moves through them like they were nothing more than an obsidian sea, parting.
Elena slows only when the birds are behind her, nearly forgotten and she thinks she is pulling ahead, to finally get a break from this place, but instead she arrives to more trees, more and more trees. Elena thinks, perhaps, she would never leave this place. And then there it is, and Elena knows, this is why she was brought here, to this place.
There are still places out there for lost things, lost voices most of all.
And this is one of them.
She looks around with her glacial gaze at the lights, the steadiness this place brings her. “is this what you wanted me to see?” She asks the forest, because she knows it is listening, can sense the way it stands perched towards her, hanging onto her words.
And then they sing, as Elena quietly walks through towards the tree. Despite herself, despite everything that has happened this evening, Elena smiles. It is only when she is close enough, that she notices the flower that presents itself to her, an offering. It is not the ones that are vibrant around her, but the one that lays closed on a low branch. She goes to it, and blue eyes widen with it’s beauty. A blue flower reveals itself as blue as her eyes, as her mothers, an amber flame rises from it, and Elena thinks of her father. This flower is her parents. Her mother, as delicate, as graceful as a blossoming flower, and her father as sharp as intense as a flame. “Thank you,” she says. “Does this mean…does it mean…are they proud of me? Am I living, am I doing, right by them?” She asks, pleads the tree for an answer.
This may be a place for lost voices, but Elena knows this one does not belong to her. They have left her a gift, and she tucks it inside her hair, but it is nothing more than a thank you. Because Elena remembers there is a place beside the sea, and new friends that stand all around her, in Terrastella, in Denocte, in Delumine. And those are the voices that ring clear now in her head as she leaps forwards, dancing already in her feet as she makes her way back to the festival.
Blue eyes spot the break up ahead of her. The lights, the laughter, it is a promise that this is not forever. A torchbearer Lilli had considered her once. But she can only light so far, before the darkness swallows it. Maybe she can be a fire now, and blaze a path through all that she has endured this evening in the forest. The birds part for her with her wild cry and she moves through them like they were nothing more than an obsidian sea, parting.
Elena slows only when the birds are behind her, nearly forgotten and she thinks she is pulling ahead, to finally get a break from this place, but instead she arrives to more trees, more and more trees. Elena thinks, perhaps, she would never leave this place. And then there it is, and Elena knows, this is why she was brought here, to this place.
There are still places out there for lost things, lost voices most of all.
And this is one of them.
She looks around with her glacial gaze at the lights, the steadiness this place brings her. “is this what you wanted me to see?” She asks the forest, because she knows it is listening, can sense the way it stands perched towards her, hanging onto her words.
And then they sing, as Elena quietly walks through towards the tree. Despite herself, despite everything that has happened this evening, Elena smiles. It is only when she is close enough, that she notices the flower that presents itself to her, an offering. It is not the ones that are vibrant around her, but the one that lays closed on a low branch. She goes to it, and blue eyes widen with it’s beauty. A blue flower reveals itself as blue as her eyes, as her mothers, an amber flame rises from it, and Elena thinks of her father. This flower is her parents. Her mother, as delicate, as graceful as a blossoming flower, and her father as sharp as intense as a flame. “Thank you,” she says. “Does this mean…does it mean…are they proud of me? Am I living, am I doing, right by them?” She asks, pleads the tree for an answer.
This may be a place for lost voices, but Elena knows this one does not belong to her. They have left her a gift, and she tucks it inside her hair, but it is nothing more than a thank you. Because Elena remembers there is a place beside the sea, and new friends that stand all around her, in Terrastella, in Denocte, in Delumine. And those are the voices that ring clear now in her head as she leaps forwards, dancing already in her feet as she makes her way back to the festival.
so take away this apathy
bury it before it buries me
@Official Dawn Account
![[Image: ddvotwe-59302ba6-6a81-47bf-9846-30c5a5db...0iFb4PvyXE]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/8026a53b-dc57-41ab-b574-9f8a8fe57ce4/ddvotwe-59302ba6-6a81-47bf-9846-30c5a5db0780.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzgwMjZhNTNiLWRjNTctNDFhYi1iNTc0LTlmOGE4ZmU1N2NlNFwvZGR2b3R3ZS01OTMwMmJhNi02YTgxLTQ3YmYtOTg0Ni0zMGM1YTVkYjA3ODAucG5nIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.ujCJH7FAbsQhfZlQniMmEd_vw-VmvaTDn0iFb4PvyXE)
let's light this house on fire
we'll dance in the warmth of its blaze
pixel made by the amazing star
