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#4

3rd

As It Was

bunnybear

May 13, 2023

334

1 Min Read 280 Words

x

? tw: medieval arson ?

also soft death.

Fire bleeds into brick,

and the world is as it was.

338Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡI7LF8JyObU

A silhouette,

A reaching hand,

A denial.

When did we become so lost?

I call your name, and your grip on the fire-torch,

it trembles but does not cease. It falters but does not fail.

Just like when we were small and

we plaited thread for friendship bracelets -

the string grew thin, but did not break. Faltered, but never failed,

yet now it burns.

I had heard your footsteps echo,

and your chamber was empty of you, bed made, so

I followed you

down the hall, out into the night,

underneath the house into this forgotten room

where I thought that you might

stop, once you heard my voice. You could not.

Your silhouette falters at my gentle questioning

but it does not fail to step

across the earthy ground to where

you've piled wood high,

and it does not fail to turn to me

as the torch falls

and our home is alight

and we are lost to the shadows of flame.

338Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgLYSd5xnE8

I suppose it is not a question of when we became so lost,

but one of how.

Did I lose you today

or long before?

Were you possessed with shadow

when we ate this last morning?

Was there a demon behind your eyes

when you cried, a few nights ago?

It is of no matter, truly,

not anymore,

not now that all is gone and the world

accepts our absence without a care.

338Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpkdTaI0TFd

It is what it is.

338Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbqqkEEBgjM

We aren't here anymore,

and the world is as it was.

338Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ98GdNpFMdV

Evil has prevailed,

and the world is as it was?

338Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡM6t15WeoD4

Fire bleeds into brick,

and the world is as it was.

ns216.73.216.143da2

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