Amiel
2010-03-13, 09:40 AM
You have existed since Time's Dawn; your memory itself stretches back eons. The Time Before Time remains fresh in your conscious; you predate the very gods themselves.
Fashioned from the primal beginnings of the stars themselves by a loveless and distant creator and neglected for Antiquity, the incredibly ancient you has always yearned for companionship, for friendship, for love.
You feel each emotion keenly, it can twist as a dagger in the small of your back, or it can blossom into the radiance of a million dawns. Your creator perhaps keenly aware of his remoteness and knowing no other way to ask for forgiveness made you hypersensitive to each and every feeling; so that you may experience tremendous infinite joy and limitless sorrow.
You have loved a countess plurality; all of them your true loves. You have known friendship of the truest sort; enemies of the vilest nature. Each one crumbling as dust before your eyes, leaving weeping motes of light.
You loop upon existence with eyes of hourglass. You have seen mountains flatten, seas boil away; the very stars dim and die before your very gaze.
What path will your eternity take? What steps will you tread; to undreamed shores, to glittering waters, to the infinite horizon.
Will you persist unto Infinity, towards the Inexorable End Times? As the only survivor within a multiverse grown cold.
Will you try to render yourself mortal?
Will you try to satiate your emotional hunger?
Or will you be content in yourself? Firmly convinced it is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all. That every single being within the Cosmos has within themselves enough to fill the present day with joy, and overspread the future years with hope.
That even in darkness, every colour can be found.
"When one door of happiness closes, another opens, but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one that has been opened for us"
Where beams of imagination play,
The memory's soft figures melt away
Fashioned from the primal beginnings of the stars themselves by a loveless and distant creator and neglected for Antiquity, the incredibly ancient you has always yearned for companionship, for friendship, for love.
You feel each emotion keenly, it can twist as a dagger in the small of your back, or it can blossom into the radiance of a million dawns. Your creator perhaps keenly aware of his remoteness and knowing no other way to ask for forgiveness made you hypersensitive to each and every feeling; so that you may experience tremendous infinite joy and limitless sorrow.
You have loved a countess plurality; all of them your true loves. You have known friendship of the truest sort; enemies of the vilest nature. Each one crumbling as dust before your eyes, leaving weeping motes of light.
You loop upon existence with eyes of hourglass. You have seen mountains flatten, seas boil away; the very stars dim and die before your very gaze.
What path will your eternity take? What steps will you tread; to undreamed shores, to glittering waters, to the infinite horizon.
Will you persist unto Infinity, towards the Inexorable End Times? As the only survivor within a multiverse grown cold.
Will you try to render yourself mortal?
Will you try to satiate your emotional hunger?
Or will you be content in yourself? Firmly convinced it is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all. That every single being within the Cosmos has within themselves enough to fill the present day with joy, and overspread the future years with hope.
That even in darkness, every colour can be found.
"When one door of happiness closes, another opens, but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one that has been opened for us"
Where beams of imagination play,
The memory's soft figures melt away