[private] Desolation Comes Upon the Sky

[Scorch]

WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

Tonight felt no different than the others. Twilight cloaked the mare's decaying skin with the skill of a long trained servant, obedient to the last; where once she stood with pride she often feels naked, now. In the midst of the trauma she caused, Scorch became evermore the victim with each passing night, playing a sad reel of memories in the eye of her mind as though it could summon up the ghosts of her past. Or rather, the ghost of her past self.

The Jungle. Him. Their children. She saw it all with the clarity only hindsight provides. And how poetic for her to recite the poems of her broken heart to herself every night, as though the sound and the rhythm of her laments might undo herself. Her past self. Might take back what she broken and make it whole again.

The poems always ended when she felt that pang of disloyal love in her chest for the man who now lay nightly with her grandson. The confusion settled in. The juxtaposition of commitment to a beloved husband and the unrequited love of the man she fell in love with in secret far earlier than she'd ever admitted caused chaos in the mind of the once-great soul. And in her breast, too, lay the agony of immortality.

And with an undying soul comes an undying hope. Even hopelessness could not lay claim to her life the way it might to others and in this way, could not lay claim to her at all.

Not forever, anyways.

So she came, nakedness hidden, shame worn upon her chest in such a way that only the ones she loved would perceive it. Yet though she came, no guarantee replied to her cry for the drink out of the cup of memory. Indeed, she painted herself the fool just by way of her being there.

In the meadow.

Where he rescued her so long ago.

Where she failed to tell him of her love for another, lying to herself that the aching feeling in her chest arose from the death of her unmother.

Where their lives together began -- and, as sure as the sun rises and sets, where it ended.

Scorch

Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle

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@[Hestoni] she got an idea and wouldn't let go, I HOPE THAT'S OKAY. No pressure to reply... she could stand a while longer of self-inflicted emotional torment. :| hehe.
@[Brennen] tagging you for honourable mentions.

Also hope no one minds me doing some in-the-past story telling... it felt like it could be true and that's enough for El Scorcho and I.