i dont want a pyrrhic victory, i want a good ending. i want and want but its not for me. i know i will not live to see the sun rise on that day where there is peace for you, love.
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i dont want a pyrrhic victory, i want a good ending. i want and want but its not for me. i know i will not live to see the sun rise on that day where there is peace for you, love.
you remember, right?
a body of bone and flora and a serene mask, a face unchanging and stone-cold
a multitude of voices all singing praise for your father in languages lost to this world
you would gaze upon her and weep as your skull splits in two but you never look away
you remember, right? you feel it? doesn't it feel familiar? like you've been here before?
did you really think she would save you from my wrath?
this is betrayal at the highest level, little messenger.
you died to the ocean, a scornful lover throws you down to drown
you rose from the floods in the desert, a dirty resurrection, a painful one
you will die dissolved in the rain, taken back to the ocean as your soul drifts away.
you cannot let the rage within you be seen, little messenger. they will turn away from you, leave you behind and abandon you once more. hide it. hide yourself. it's for the greater good.
you were born angry and scared, you poor little thing. you struggle and fight in the clutches of any who dare to hold you, benevolent hands and caring hands and malicious hands and disguised hands.
you no longer trust me and i know i am not welcome
you know i would do anything to return to your side
and yet.
you hold your anger close. you hold your hate closer.
close enough so that none may know. your mask covers all, anyways. no one can know. no one can know. no one will ever know, and it will burn your core.