Level 2
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud and I've made 65 posts
[Flick Reaper]
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Post by Uelle on Apr 11, 2012 18:01:38 GMT -5
A dense, lonely forest thickens as far as the eye can see. It is so thick with trees there is no space wide enough to walk through. The trees spread wildly, as if desperate to cover every little inch of earth available, so that one does not walk upon the ground, but upon tree roots. However, there is one path. One road clear of roots and the encroaching loneliness. Dappled softly by streaks of light like rain, it winds endlessly through the forest. Rumors say it is the path to Paradise.
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Level 2
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud and I've made 65 posts
[Flick Reaper]
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Post by Uelle on Apr 11, 2012 18:26:46 GMT -5
Stuck. She was stuck on her knees, just like the quiet martyr she was. But that was now. She'd never been such a tragic concept before. Such a definition. Oh - is that what she was now? A walking concept? A vessel with no construct, no self-identity except for that which defined her. When had she fallen so deep into [THE WORLD], that almost bottomless pit? It was suffocating down there. Has it been like this for Her all this time too? She felt so sad, so sad to know. To know her friend was in this suffering trench. But perhaps, now that she too was neck-deep in it - perhaps now there was hope. How convoluted.
Uelle lied breathless on her knees, on the seams of her sanity it seemed. These beautiful things that had sprouted from her back, like a butterfly. They gleamed an ethereal green in the lustrous limelight. So alien-like. So beautiful. So painful. How could something so beautiful be so painful? Or perhaps that was the definition of beauty in [THE WORLD]. She thought the pain would have gone by now, but it still felt like they've been newly birthed, right down to her fingertips. She could not control it anymore, just like how she had no control over what Uelle had become.
Slowly, she dragged herself out of the dirt path and into the shadows of the trees. She sat against their thick bark with a sigh. It's been quiet lately. Like this forest, it was a desolate kind of silence.
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