Relentless the tide that brings men ashore. Continue reading “Relentless Tide”
I hear your name, whispered against the dark waning moon.
It calls to me.
Spurs me onward, encourages me.
I dive in.
That swirling abyss that brings me to stars. That brings nebulas to their knees. That cracks the very foundation of Jupiter, itself.
I dive into that darkness. That depth.
And I expect to see nothing.
Nothing but you. Continue reading “Marvel”
“Are you ready?”
It was a shout over the winds. Clarity cutting through the chaos of the wind, the rain.
It rocked the sky. Bellowing a challenge above us. Barking through waves of lightning—dangerous, sparking smiles that made the hairs on my legs stand up. Clouds coming together, forming a mutiny above us. Cackling at the open ground below.
At the terrified people.
Cowering beneath the dark, bruised skies.
Looking up, I felt that fear. Felt the wicked grin of the storm pressing on me, pushing me. Urging me to roll over. To lay down and die.
That wasn’t what I came here to do.
As the wind roared, and the thunder croaked, and the lightning tickled the earth—tagging the earth’s surface—I nodded.
“I’m ready,” I yelled back.
Unafraid of the storm. Continue reading “Standing Storms”
“Do you expect the light to return, simply because you wish for it? Should the earth bow so easily to your whims? Plunge others into discord to sate your despair?”
I flinched, convicted. Conflicted.
Part of me said yes. The part that was not made from stars. That longed for something other than the dark. That wished for the sun to return so I could warm myself against its gently sizzling beams. Those rays that would warm my soul like nothing else could. That part of me was foolish. That part affirmed.
Part of me said yes.
But, the other part?
Of course, it was more reasonable.
Even under the the heaving dark, amassing with stars. Corralling light and shadow together to create the beauty that dusted the heavens. Even as oppressing as the earth’s darkness was—as boastful, as ravenous—still.
Part of me said no.
…the correct part, more than likely. Continue reading “Shadow of the Stars”
I cleave the building.
Split it in two.
It crumbles, the giant skyscraper. Creaking like an ancient door, cracking like lightning. All of its stories falling, echoing thunder. The building roars as it falls, and people run from it. Completely terrified.
But I don’t stop.
I don’t stop.
I throw another bolt of lightning. Shake the earth with a kick. Yell, and the foundations all shake.
I am not done destroying, not yet.
I won’t be done for quite some time.
This must all come crashing down, you see. These terrors and raging beasts. The creatures that carve out destruction, that lay waste to each other and the beasts of this earth.
I won’t stop until they’re all gone.
Until all this ends.
Until there is nothing but a clean slate left.
This all must end. Continue reading “Beginning”
I am not here of my own accord.
Fate was set. Pulled into motion. Gears of time and space and virtue, all meshing together to tick down. To continue counting the seconds until the bell would toll. Until the hammer would strike.
I am not here of my own accord, I can promise you that.
I am here.
And I am no fool.
I must do what it is that I was destined to do. Regardless of how I feel, of what I want, I know what I must do, and I will do it.
Pave the way.
Continue reading “Thorny Fate”
Fire and lightning.
They were not happy.
I wasn’t aware that it could come to this. That their tempers would climb so high. That they would stoop so low. As I watched, the earth began to tremble. Humanity began to shake. The foundations of the earth shook angrily at their quarrel.
And I, myself?
What was I doing?
I was watching.
Through every kick and every punch and every strike.
I watched on. Continue reading “Unity Among Us”
I did not raise a family.
When the earth was born, it was born chaotic. Churning endlessly. A depth that swallowed, and swallowed, and swallowed. Greedy selfish beasts rose up from the ash and muck, traipsing about with hunger, with lust, with blood on their hands. They cared not for life, nor for death, but wandered endlessly in between. Mouths that chewed and spat, ate but did not swallow. Creatures that wasted, over and over and over again.
What was I to do with that?
What is expected of me?
You think I should raise glory? That I should bring forth morning? That I ought to bathe them in light and wonder and power?
Creatures such as these did not deserve such things. Would only waste them, as they did everything else.
So I did not raise children like the others. Traditionally, the gods’ children would bring wonder and glory and knowledge to the creatures below.
But not mine.
I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
So I did not raise a family.
I raised hell instead. Continue reading “Four Rise In Direction”
A static fills the air, charges it with heat.
And then explodes.
Light and heat burst forth, cracking the air. Yellow or purple or blue explodes before the eyes. Asserting itself with a roar, with fire, with destruction.
What’s more devastating than a lightning strike?
Such a sudden thing. Such a fickle thing.
Here and then gone. A flash and nothing more.
I don’t want to be a lightning strike. Not just a lightning strike. Not when I can be so much more.
We can be so much more. Continue reading “More Than A God”
I have never been a fan of the sunrise.
Just speaking realistically. They’re scary, chaotic. You never know what you’re truly in for until you’re in it, and by then it’s too late. You can’t change your mind at that point. The new beginning has already begun. You’re a train on a track heading toward something—whether it’s a station, or a town, or a cliff with tracks dangling off the edge—and you just can’t stop.
They’re blinding and brilliant, and I’m always too tired for that. Too tired to wake up, to take part. By the time I rise, the sun is already up there, doing its thing.
And that’s fine by me.
I’m not into sunrises.
I’m more of a sunsets kind of person.
Because there’s always time for a sunset. Always.
I can always catch a sunset.