Anomalous
Fragments of memories that cannot be
Hidden in plain sight
Temporal anomalies, calling out
Begging to be seen
Clear as day and clearly impossible
Their messages whispered
In a language I do not yet comprehend.
Fragments of memories that cannot be
Hidden in plain sight
Temporal anomalies, calling out
Begging to be seen
Clear as day and clearly impossible
Their messages whispered
In a language I do not yet comprehend.
This is… angry. And rightfully so, I guess, but I recommend skipping it if you do not like fury. And don't worry, I'm writing, not broken.
Warning: Depression, death, self-hate, loss.
I have some pretty angry things written from when… well, from when. I held onto my grief for a long time… still do, kind of. This is… sort of how that felt, as best I can put it.
Inspired by Gris, the mysteries of the ancient world, our lost magic, hope, longing, and my desperate desire to make this universe a place worth living in.
Something has been stolen from us Fragments scattered in our dreams Our tear streaked souls, crying out From a longing they cannot explain
Mortality That supposed inevitability that We are asked to accept as canon With our purposes served we Are to be discarded.
But are we so meaningless Fibers in the cosmic tapestry Forgotten soon after last breath Footnotes in other lives Half-remembered moments?
No.
We are so much more.
Passionate, or perhaps just a bitch
Full of broken glass and fire
Opinionated, vocal, unrelenting
A sprinkling of sex for flavor
A fiction, touching on truths
That I didn't mean to disclose
In which the strange and unusual continues and Dio gets a little weirded out.