koyori
Ashes, leaping into the air.
And your eyes burn with a terrible, terrible fire, and I cannot look away. Anger is cheap, but rage - wrath in the soul cannot be calmed, nor quenched, not by rivers deep nor waters sweet. I have seen the eyes -
Lord Thou pluckest
To Carthage
It was a long time ago, when the waves first crested at the zenith of the ocean, that she was born. She, who walked in beauty, who danced wreathed in the glory of blue and orange mists, purple-pink sunrise - she, goddess of love, holder of a thousand fragments. A pearl, arms wreathed in sea foam, scarlet threads in her grasp.
And the little birds, diving - what do they not fear?
Man, his feet planted firmly upon the ground, cowers. His eyes look in, and his soul tugs back, but the curiosity in his spirit - it propels him forward. What would it be like, whispers the voice in his ear, what would it be like to step into the great nothingness?
Teetering, we soar briefly, and plunge.