and bury it before it buries me
In the span of a heart beat, Elena smells autumn and in turn she thinks of the lake, that god forsaken lake where she made so many memories only to have them torn away by a goddess, a temple, and a monk. Her legs thrum harder against the earth as she reaches out to overtake the horse in front of her. This may have started out as a dance, and maybe it still is, but Elena is eager to be the one to lead. She can almost count the beats in her head, 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8. Again and again, it is less like a waltz and more of the wildness of a tango.
She can hear voices around her, they swell like a symphony, but they play a song that Elena either does not know or has forgotten. But she cannot let her attention linger on it for too long, one wrong step here could cost her more than just the race, just the win. Her legs move mechanically, and if this is truly a symphony surrounding her, well then, she must be the drums. It is only when the sound of that flute returns to her, that Elena returns back to her body and pounds against the earth in rhythm still, and if her legs were the drums, well then her heart was a flute, not any flute, but that flute.
Elena looks like nothing but a flame, bold and brazen as her gold skin is ignited by the fires. The fires burn around her and she sinks into the smoke, into the heat, into the burning. Yet, she can still breath, can still see, and she feels no pain. Is this what it feels like to be fire? She wonders.
And then there is nothing but her and the finish line.
And the reality of the race she is running comes crashing back into her with a startling reality. Elena is tired, so tired. This is her reminder that she is not fire, because fire never slows, never fatigues. Then she will not be fire, she decides, but water, cascading over the cliff side of her ancestral home. Just like it plummets into the glistening lake below, so too does Elena over the finish line.
She can hear voices around her, they swell like a symphony, but they play a song that Elena either does not know or has forgotten. But she cannot let her attention linger on it for too long, one wrong step here could cost her more than just the race, just the win. Her legs move mechanically, and if this is truly a symphony surrounding her, well then, she must be the drums. It is only when the sound of that flute returns to her, that Elena returns back to her body and pounds against the earth in rhythm still, and if her legs were the drums, well then her heart was a flute, not any flute, but that flute.
Elena looks like nothing but a flame, bold and brazen as her gold skin is ignited by the fires. The fires burn around her and she sinks into the smoke, into the heat, into the burning. Yet, she can still breath, can still see, and she feels no pain. Is this what it feels like to be fire? She wonders.
And then there is nothing but her and the finish line.
And the reality of the race she is running comes crashing back into her with a startling reality. Elena is tired, so tired. This is her reminder that she is not fire, because fire never slows, never fatigues. Then she will not be fire, she decides, but water, cascading over the cliff side of her ancestral home. Just like it plummets into the glistening lake below, so too does Elena over the finish line.
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
