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Writings, poetry and oration, words, books and wordsmiths.


Postby NoustheWise » Sun Dec 03, 2017 12:36 am

Looking into the black mirror,
I offered neither questions
Nor requests

Surrendering to whatever
Was deemed necessary
For my eyes to see

Smoke rippled over
Its dark surface
The dim light offered
No reflection,
As liquid shadow overflowed,
Darkening the mirror's frame

The head of a wolf appeared
Bowed low and with fangs bared
The skull of a bull overlaid the creature
Both sets of eyes pierced mine

As they faded away,
A soldier met my gaze
His face obscured
In an armored mask

This was again replaced
By a pair of hands
Intimately intertwined

The silhouette of an archer's profile
Stood tall and graceful
He pulled an arrow from his quiver
Before turning to face me

He raised his arms
And took the form of
A crucified man

A face twisted
In a silent scream,
Pressing hard against
A tightly bound fabric of smoke

The face pulled back
With a mischievous smile
Before looking upward
Contorted in either pain or pleasure
We're voices in God's head
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Re: Scry

Postby Cerber » Sun Dec 03, 2017 4:25 am

I found it very enjoyable, thank you
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It's no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.
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