years are no longer pocket change and days no longer fleeting thoughts when a mind is occupied with healing wounds scratched deep into the soul, with pain and hunger and thirst more prevalent than centuries have known, but strongest of all is loss; of role and purpose, of foe and ally, and of years that could have been, of a different life that will never now be known, and of one never now to be seen again; expurged and sanctified to be mortal once more.
powers passed // old young man
(secret santa for ann @lesbianllawliet)

















