Tag: daily post

Letters of a war

Dear Nala, 

Thank you for your last shipment. The dates were divine! The conditions here keep growing worse by the day, we have already lost five men to gangrene. Our party of thirty now remains only seven, the rest taken by the plague. But we soldier on! We will find the answer! We will cure the continent! This war will not destroy us! I made a vow to you my love, and to our sweet Kathryn. do not mind that I am reusing stationery, our supplies run low, and the rains have not been kind.

you asked what the Emperor is doing hidden behind his walls as his people die? I cannot speak of my Grand uncles mind. he did send us tea, but we don’t have fire to brew some. or the means to make a fire. this forest was never meant to be burned. we sleep wet and wake up wet. My hair sticks to my skin like wet fur. my hands are pruned and ripe like the dates you sent. my feet do not get wet, your magic, though small is all that is keeping me safe.

the earth cannot comprehend how much I miss you. your laughter, your deep black eyes lined with khoal. your hands. I love you Nala. more now that I am a thousand miles away from you. I dream of you, of your jasmine scent and honeyed lips. I dream of the baby you carry, I pray she has your even temper and fierce spirit. My heart is there with you my love. my soul remains beside you, Always

I will come back home.  

Don’t lose hope. 

Hold on to my love.

Josephine. 

P.S. We uncovered some letters from the first war, sent to the General commandant, we are close my love. So so close.

************************************************************

The valley of the Archives, unearthed letters from the Lost city. 

As translated by Maester Josephine. Salverr general, high scribe of the great library, grand niece to the emperor. Moon year 706

To the General commandant,

The first army of the continent,

Azul-Ahia 

Alhamek, alkahadhri, alkheza!

Greetings!

We write to you in the hopes that this letter reaches you quickly. We write you with the hope that Yarra, the goddess of earth and life, will send her sons, the winds with the voices of our people, with the cries of our children. We write you, General, to beseech you again. And we will not stop until you heed us. You hold our future in your hands, you hold the future of the continent in your hands. 

We sent you our husbands, their blood boiling with rage at the enemy’s audacity, to dare come to our continent’s gates, to dare break the fragile string of peace that took us a century to weave, to assault your family and kill your wife. You sent us back a cloud of grief. You sent us back poisonous shadows, speaking of the ill that befell them. Of their torn bodies, lying in fields of blood. Of their broken and twisted limbs, they will never walk on our Yarra-blessed lands. Send us back our husbands! Send us back their bones! So that we may burry them on our blessed fields, and dress them in flowers, so that they may know, we did not forget.

We cannot forget.

You snatched our sons from our limbs and fed them to your ships, and coal mines, to labor and slave for your cause. Our children, our happy boys, were barely men then. Now they ritual in adulthood in foreign lands, they sleep with foreign women and bow down to foreign gods. Yarra rejects them. The island rejects them. Those children, who tore us into two when they entered this world, do not recognize the flesh that fed them, they don’t recognize the backs that broke for them. You have killed our sons! General, what more could we possibly give?

We thought then, surely, surely you have taken enough, surely The island has given enough. And yet now, the Enemies’ hounds are at our gates! Their black ships fill the sea like ants. Our walls burn from their arrows. They have poisoned the wells, we cannot drink. Our stores run emptier with each passing day. Our younglings drink from dried-up breasts, their cries a symphony of the dying. 

They have taken our daughters, General, to sell them to slavery in Ghaimiza, Afulshal and Magazer. They are draining our land of Life, and Yarra does not forgive. Yarra will not forgive. 

We may be a small island, but our spirit is strong. Our Valley hides the continent’s beating heart. Far be it from us to direct you, to even dare suggest this. But we, the mothers who were left behind. Have no more to give you General. 

Send us reinforcement. Send us food. Remove the enemy from our doors.

That which you seek is in our Archives. But remember general. Only the goddess can restore life. Isn’t a million deaths enough payment for one life lost? 

A thousand curses to you and the continent, if you don’t send us aid. 

The beatitudes

Happy are those who wake up every day, without the shadows of the previous day’s mistakes.
Happy are those, who can look at another’s wealth, beauty , and health and not sigh despaired longing.
Happy are those whose lives are exactly how they imagined life would be at this very moment.
Happy are those whose plans go accordingly, whose every prayer is always answered, whose stars always align.
Happy are those who make their parents proud, and their children make them proud.
Happy are those who luck knows by name, whose bellies are always full and whose hearths are always warm.
Happy are those who do not know grief, or the pain of unrequited love, or a rainy day, or a cold summer.
Happy are those who do not know the sting of insomnia or the sting of a failed interview
Happy are those whose pounding hearts do not wake them every morning, whose shaking hands don’t accompany them throughout the day, who walk through life with their heads held high, and a spring in their steps.

Oh ye happy people. Return back to your home planet!

The Path

The little boy stood at the crossroads, his face scrunched up in deep thought. On one hand the path that cut through the park and into the forest was a shorter route to his home. Even though Mama had warned him over a million times to never use it. On the other hand, he had been so busy playing soccer that the bus left him. He was in trouble already anyway, Mama couldn’t get mad at him twice. She may actually be a little less mad if he got faster.

He shrugged his shoulders, decision made, hoisted his school bag higher up on his shoulders and started walking slowly across the park. The park was a huge sea of green with wild flowers in blue and pink and red bursting out like falling confetti. He saw an orange flower once , but Mama did not believe him, saying he was too young to know what orange is. But he did know. What dummy did not know red and yellow make orange?. Miss lily always praised his drawings, especially those he did with his fingers. But Mama did not like when he played with paint. He had tried to draw a flower on her bedroom wall once, big beautiful flowers in orange. But Mama had gotten so mad she had banished him to bed without supper.
He dearly loved the color orange.
He cleared the sea of green and started up the hill. Up past the broken monkey bars and rusted swings that no one played on anymore. The climbing wall leaned dangerously towards the slides, its multi-colored brick wall covered in climbing ivy. The spinning wheel squeaked loudly as it turned around slowly the white haired child sitting on it waved bashfully at him. He waved back smiling brightly. The park was a grave of disused metal and bricks, rusted metal bars poked dangerously from the ground at an angle that could take someone’s toe if they were not careful. But he was always careful. He went on a treasure hunt once, him and the white haired boy and found over fifty rusted nails. Mama wasn’t happy about that either, that and the white haired boy she couldn’t see. She had pinched his ears and called him a fibber.

Ark was no fibber. He knew that .He never understood why no one saw the white haired boy. But he was his best friend in the world. The white haired boy wasn’t mean to him like Liam and his gaggle of friends. He did not pull his hair or steal his lunch, or call his paintings stupid. White haired boy never even spoke, he just smiled at Ark and let him do all the talking. Ark turned around, chest heaving, waved goodbye at white haired boy, still sitting at the spinner.
The sun was setting below the clouds, making. His shadow long behind him. Ark giggled and jumped. His shadow jumped with him. He raised his hands above his head and waved the around. His shadow did it too.

“Race you to the forest!” he said to his shadow and took off down the hill. His yellow raincoat like a flag behind him, his tiny feet in black shoes, the lace on the left shoe undone, slapping the ground hard as he raced. The forest loomed ahead of him, the narrow footpath, worn by the stomping of a thousand feet, rising up to greet him. He stepped on his undone lace, tripped on his feet and skidded on his hands and knees to a stop.

“Ooww!!” he screamed, holding his tiny hands up to his face,

They were scraped raw and bleeding slightly,

“Tssssssss” he sucked in air through his teeth and tongue.

He stood up gingerly, hands held out in front of him, inspecting his equally bruised knees. Mud coated his shorts,shoes and legs. Pain stabbed his knee repeatedly with the same rhythm as his fast beating heart. Tears mingled with the mud on his clothes, and he gritted his teeth, determined not to cry.

The shadows from the tree creeped eerily at his feet. Like monks bowed down in worship. The muddy path into the forest loomed ahead of him,like a nightmare, he looked behind him,confused. But the hill that he had climbed so happily a while back now looked like a mountain threatening to fall and bury him. His bones trembled inside him. His arms and knees were in excruciating fire. He wanted to scream, he wanted his Mama.

Ark whimpered, cold sipping through his raincoat and school sweater into his bones. He coughed, and wiped the snot from his tears with the back of his hands. He exhaled, slowly, his voice breaking, threading to release the tears he was working so hard to hold back.
He turned around, and started to walk into the forest.

The white haired boy stood in front of him, angrily shooing him away

“I want t-o t-o go home..” he whimpered

The white haired boy waved at him angrily pointing back up the hill. Ark Turned around but there was no one behind him. He turned back to the boy.

“Home is that way…”

The boy looked behind him, but shook his head, as if to say no and pointed back up the hill.

Ark shook his head at him. His stomach rubbed. He was cold, hurt and angry, and just wanted to go home. He decided to ignore the white haired boy. Even when the boy grabbed at him to stop him, his pale hands going through Ark’s wrist. He walked slowly into the now almost dark forest,limping and grimacing with every step.

The sound of a thousand wings flapping as the birds roosted was the only sound accompanying his painful steps. It got darker the further he walked into the forest. So Ark Counted his steps to distract himself, he knew he need seven hundred and ten steps to get home and he was at one hundred and three,

“One and one and, one and one and five , one and one and six…”

Mama must be so angry by now, he knew he was never allowed to be outside when it was dark. He will gladly give up supper now if only Mama would come find him. He missed his bed, and the bath, and his teddy and the kitchen door that never closed right. He missed his three legged cat, and the smell of Mama’s special drink. Even though it made her mean. He missed sitting outside their trailer and hearing the neighbors argue.

A tree trunk was lying across his path. He stopped counting and looked around him, someone had covered the trunk in dark clothing and a hat. He leaned down, squinting in the semi-darkness, trying to find a way around, he thought the hat was cute so he pulled it back, wondering why someone would dress up a tree.

A dark terrified face stared up at him, mouth stuck in an O , a dark liquid pouring out of his throat making a small pool under around his head. The tree trunk’s hands were holding their neck, as if trying to keep the liquid in.

Ark jumped back, tripping on his feet and landing on his butt. He screamed, the terrified sound bursting out of him like a tsunami. Fear held him in its tight clasp. He clawed at the ground trying to free himself. His limbs turned to water and he could not stand. The tree trunk extended one dark had towards him, a plea streaming out of its neck.

What was Liam doing here, why was he lying across his path? Was this another one of his toments. Why was Liam crying? Ark looked around him, his eyes, two wide saucers on his face. He half expected Liam’s friends to jump out from the trees and pelt him with mud.

A dark hulking figure walked slowly towards him, head wrapped in a metal mask of sorts, its artistry terrifying and beautiful at the same time. Ark crab walked away from the approaching person, the idea of standing up and running completely lost to him. The figure approached still, like a predator stalking prey. It finally caught up with Ark and leaned down towards him,using the spade it was holding on his right hand as support. It twisted its head to the left, and quietly stared at Ark’s heaving form.

“What’s wrong?Ark? “ it whispered

THE GARDEN

The moon was a big, pale face in the clear, starless sky. Dry grass crunched beneath his sandals as Adam strolled through the garden. The nightmare had chased him from his sleep; he could still hear the hounds from hell nipping at his feet, their foul breath just behind his neck. His heart still beat unsteadily, his hands were shaking, little tremors up and down his forearms now and again, as if in memory of the blood he had been elbow-deep in his dream. The quiet night calmed him, and he used his footsteps to steady his breath, counting them at the same steady beat as his heart. He tried to stop it from plummeting into his stomach every few seconds.

He had taken this path a hundred times before, through the dense grove of white birch trees, the short lemon trees caressing his ankles, to the sloping orchard framed by red and purple willows, now just hairy silhouettes in the night, right to the centre of the earth where the tree stood. He had never named this one; he only named it the tree. No word he could think of could cover its magnificence. It was the only one of its kind. Standing over two hundred feet long, its massive trunk, the bark like a wrinkled old woman’s skin, was home to hundreds of different little animals. The gigantic branches spread out in supplication of earth, wind, and sky. Even if he stood on his tippy toes, he could never reach the lowest branch. The other trees spread out from around it: maple, ash, oak, and sycamore in vibrant mixtures. Little rivers and streams that swelled when it rained covered the forest floor intermittently. This was his home, his life.

The tree did not calm him as it once did; he looked at it, trying to find a glimmer of something—the words of a forgotten prayer, peace, or hope. Maybe even a denial of what has been haunting his dreams for over a month. All he found was the growing chasm of emptiness that had been there for what felt like an eternity. He was floating in a vacuum of misery, tossed either way by forces he couldn’t understand. He craved it; he longed to go back home. This was home as he had always known it; there was that tree on his left he had rammed into the first time he tried flying a Pellian, and the bark was still cracked. That calm mirror, where the moon was reflected, was where he first met and named the lake. He loved to jump in on hot days and play with them. Down that path is where he would take Eve when she was mad at him, because the paths were lined with moon flowers, and they made her sneeze and laugh. This was home and yet it wasn’t. Something was missing. He fell down, grief overwhelming him, hands on the protruding roots, and cried himself to sleep.

Eve, who had offered him a fruit.

Eve woke up to an empty bed again. She sighed and looked around at the empty room. The fire was crackling merrily, a sign that he was not so far gone this time. She sat up on the bed, the soft quilt sliding down her bare torso.

“Adam,” she called softly. Nothing. The cabin beyond was quiet.

She got out of bed, worry drawing her brows together. She grabbed her robe from the closet and put it on, tying it at the waist.

“Adam, are you home?”

Her voice echoed on the empty walls, settling on the sparse furniture Adam had made like dust. She woke out of her room, naked feet on the warm floor. She peeked into the two extra bedrooms: the study, which doubled as the library, and the wooden, rustic shelves stacked with books. The living area, large and inviting, was her last stop. Here she found him on the couch, head resting on the armrest, legs crossed on the opposite armrest. He stared at the sunrise through the glass walls, his brows furrowed in anguish. His eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, she noted. It broke her heart to see him like this—so anguished. She had tried everything to ease his burden, but Adam wouldn’t talk to her. She had no idea what was going on, and she was getting tired of his brooding science.

She sighed, rubbing her forehead.

“Adam…Are you ok?” He glanced over at her, saying nothing.

“When are you ever going to talk to me? I am trying, Adam. Look at me; I am really, really trying.”

She walked towards him, standing in his line of sight. He had lost a couple of pounds. His ribs were starting to show and he was overdue a shave. He said nothing, still. Lost in whatever hell he was stuck in.

“I am going to go for a swim, join me?” she asked, hesitantly.

He shook his head no, stood up and left the room.

Eve’s face fell; a thousand sharp shards pierced her heart. For this? This inhumane silence? She sacrificed everything for this. Ruined the garden, just for her husband to turn into this stranger, this husk of a human

She walked out of the cabin, the sun bathing her in light and illuminating the tears streaming down her face. Her angry footsteps led her straight to the centre, to the tree. Even Adam, blessed as he was with names, could not name.  She stared at it angrily. stared at her.

Lilith glided down the tree, her black hair flowing on a phantom wind. she was taller, taller than Adam by a few inches, her form lithe and strong. She had big brown eyes, with thick eyelashes, her petite nose and full lips fit her face perfectly. She landed daintily in front of Eve, smiling her maniac smile.

“Eveey darling, long time no see!”  her voice was high pitched, so at odds with her sultry figure, it always took Eve by surprise.

“Lilith, why are you still here? Haven’t you done enough?” With a worried glance behind her, Eve grabbed her and pushed her around the tree.

Lilith faded from her grasp like smoke, then reappeared behind her, flicking her hair.

“rellaaxx, Evee, your precious husband can’t see me, we have already established that, what brings  you to my office?”

Eve flipped around to face her, her eyes baulking.

“ You promised me, that if I ate of the fruit, we would be happy. You said, we would be free. So why,why are we stuck in this prison? Why is my husband fading away right before my eyes?”

“ you are free”

“ no I am not !”

“Evey, you came to me; I did not seek you out; you came to me tired of the garden, suffocating; you said you wanted out. Why would HE create a universe but stick you in a corner of it? You wanted to know about life. Why does the tree grow? Why this tree? Why do fish swim? Why is Adam Adam?. I answered your questions. I helped you; don’t you know now? Don’t you have the answers now? Sweet Evey?”

Eve looked at her shocked, a sinking unpleasant feeling spreading through her limbs. Her heart thumped in her chest, she felt light headed. The morning breeze was suddenly too sharp, too cold.

“I did not ask for this! I could not have asked for this and you know it!” she hissed.

“ you asked for freedom” Lilith laughed.

“I ASKED FOR LIFE!” Eve screamed, falling to her knees and crying into her hands

“This, Eve, darling, is life. This emptiness, this need for something more, something grand,. This walking around thinking you serve a bigger purpose, that there is more to you than just flesh and blood and air on bones. You are nothing but dust, Eve,” Lilith growled. “This is life; life is toil and sadness. Life is a heavy cloud surrounding your heart; darkness always follows you around, making it hard to breathe because you are darkness.”

Eve simpered, hugging herself. A thousand shards cut into her skin. The tree swayed and moaned with her beating heart. She hugged herself tighter, trying to shut out Lilith’s words. They hissed at her, biting her, tempting her. She wanted to scream, but she choked on her voice. Her guilt was like a thick, wet blanket smothering her, covering her head to toe. She had messed up. She had killed the garden; in her quest to know more, she had ruined her home and ruined her husband.

The wind picked up, shaking the trees. All she could see was Lilith. Lilith. The only one who answered her questions in the garden. Lilith walking with her, teaching her about all the animals Adam named and the crawlies that he did not like, so Lilith named them. Lilith, who taught her how to speak with the snakes and who, after a lot of begging, offered her the fruit from the tree. She only wanted to know; she wanted to do more than exist and serve.She offered the fruit to Adam. Now they were doomed, and it was her fault.

She was sorry. She was very sorry; if only she could go back.

The earth shook, and a magnificent light filled the garden. And a voice boomed from above.

“Eve, my child..”

SIGH

I think… I think, when someone knows you love them and you will do anything for them, they never think of you again.

I think, it sucks that I would only love you harder as you love me less and less and less each day until the aching for me in your soul is nothing more than cold ash where embers once were.

I think, I should get used to feeling the rattling of my heart along my ribs, this endless chasm of pain and unworthiness, this darkness where such blinding bright light used to live, this endless unknowingness. I miss the man you were

I think, I should have held you a bit longer a bit tighter, I should have kissed you slowly and not with the arrogance of an assured tommorow. I should have carved your smile, your words, your sighs on my skin so that I can have at least the memory of the man who once loved me to keep me company in the anxious prison of my faults.

I think I was childish to think that you would be satisfied with only now, with the present the sun the sky and the endless sea and us. Yet the hounds of the future were chasing you forcing you to look ahead and plan and plan and plan, you forgot what it was like to just be, here.

I wish, I could say I release you. And actually do it

unmoored

Unmoved. Unapologetically so.

Heart racing, tongue heavy, this disquiet in my soul

I am restless, my skin filled with ants

My thoughts with worse case scenarios

Google says acknowledge your brain throwing a tantrum and deal

Deal with it. But how

I should drown in this mire of shadow thoughts

I should die, chocked on words I should have said,

I should, escape this yoke of dreams deterred but yet

I am stuck.

Stuck in this unfulfilling life reaching for younger stars

That once seemed near. I am chocking

On your words filled with silence, I don’t know.

I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know

What do I want what should I do?

I know what you should do. Only what is best for you

Though I wish I was. Unmoved.

Walls

I think, you didn’t dream hard enough,  I think you didn’t want it bad enough you did not affirm hard enough,  staring at your empty soul through your bathroom mirror murmuring repeatedly the words like tart sweets on your tongue, biting your jaw, chocking out of you with forced conviction . I am rich I am honored I am respected i am a queen..


And yet here you still are, still broke still sad still yearning for that which isn’t yours still breathing out stale air into your empty days, still thinking tommorow, tomorrow will be my day, tomorrow I will shine I will laugh I will love harder than I have ever, tommorow someone, anyone will look at me say you. You are it you are perfect you are enough Do the stars listen? Are the heavens even there?


Is this reflection in the mirror all there is of you,  This sad unfulfilled, broken doll. Cracked in so many places you can’t even remember when once you were whole. Plastering your scars and scabs with feigned laughs and fake smiles just enough. Enough to last you through the day to hold up your skin over bones over hope. Enough to get you back to the four darks walls and empty bed

Crawl

How long will we crawl here on our hands and knees surviving on the bare minimum just scraping by, making do barely moving thrashing about in this muck called life, everyone says find happiness yet all we end up with is toxic happiness, we cling so hard to all the temporary shit that gives us a temporary high if happiness is so darn important why is it so hard to find, why must you scrape your knees and hurt your hands before you can hold it, keep it. If happiness is so essential why is it hiding behind all these smoke and mirrors now you see me, now you don’t.

I

I drink milk in cracked wine glasses, sleep on a full and a halfbed I hide fumes in my lungs, in my head, let the clouds release the hurt through my pores, letting me rest in Havana hoping the temporary high I get will flay the lies from my skin cleansing me, purging me of the the ghosts that haunt my steps, I spin diamond tales in my head and dance with angels under a shower of stars, I bathe in golden moonlight and live and love

I choose you, I chose you even when I knew you wouldn’t notice, you wouldn’t see me blast all this love through my skin, you wouldn’t blink, breathe in my emotions you lie, you lied to me always always and yet I have never been happier than I am when am with you even if it is just standing in your shadow.

Daily post: Forlorn