‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ DESPAIR & PIERCING-CRUELTY

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎(THE PRELUDE, 001.)
‎ ‎ FROM THE HOUSE OF VALOURETH

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎...

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I AM BEYOND SAVING,
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎MY HEART IS OUT BLEEDING”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“MY DEAR, WHO WILL COME
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎WHILE I AM RAVING?”

The sun sinks into briny crimson haze at the very edge of the world’s rim, leaving its final baleful light to drift across a soul already claimed by unfathomable void. It’s dreadful enchantment; its beauty has always been merciless. The sweetest promises always speak in the soft tongue of mourning. Devotion gathers with the solemn inevitability of approaching storm before settling in the throat, where an ancient blade has long lain forgotten.

Love is a quiet affliction, a torment form so immeasurably profound that patiently consumes the soul until nothing remains except the hollow echo of what once longed to be seen. Some affections destined to remain forever unspoken because the world beyond has always been too indifferent and too merciless to cradle their fragile beginning without crushing them beneath its weight. When every confession is answered only by silence, every prayer by absence.
‎  ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‌‎ ‎ ‎
‎  ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‌‎ ‎ ‎