Dear Daughter, son, how I cross the lakes where all mothers and fathers will go
to the deepest waters where the darkness will forever show
and though my hands gave shape to your body and mind
All blood regrets their destination of choosing, for this is our kind
in red wetness that we wade, how I loved you so dearly
and as I stand at the world's edge, I can think and regret so clearly
Once upon a time there lived a being who could face in every single direction every moment of the day. Their name was Doc Diventia and when they spoke, their voice sounded like breaking glass. There is a boy who sits on the surface of a still lake, and tells stories to them. There is no time here. Only stories.
Comments (1)
See all