The brawny brute grabbed the scrawny lad by the collar and grunted, vile breath seeping through his gritted teeth.

“The only reason Magnar won’t accept my challenge is you!” he fumed, “Tell him to fight me OR ELSE.”

“Listen, Fritjof,” Syndri strained, “My brother has no reason to fight an innocent man--”

“INNOCENT?!” Fritjof retorted.

“Perhaps innocent you are not,” Syndri smiled awkwardly, “but you have committed unto him no offense.”

Fritjof growled as he slammed Syndri against a nearby tree, causing the lad to wince.

“I said, make him fight me,” Fritjof slurred.

“I’m afraid I simply cannot do such a thing,” Syndri breathed, “My brother has a mind of his own and, with it, he does what he so chooses--”

“Make him choose!” Fritjof roared, pressing Syndri into the tree a little harder, “He always seems to listen to you.”

“I tell you this day, if I were to suggest such an illogical act, Magnar would likely believe I’d gone mad!” Syndri laughed nervously, “Besides, it is the very essence of his heart that is against such deeds. You see, he’s devoted to The Shining Lord, now. He’s put away childish things.”

Fritjof drew out his jewel-encrusted dagger by the golden handle and traced its blade along the folds of Syndri’s leather armor.

“Have you called me childish, bumbling fool?” Fritjof asked in fury, raising the dagger up to Syndri’s neck.

“No, sir. Not at all, sir,” Syndri stammered, lifting his chin, “I meant--”

Suddenly, the two men looked to a distant noise ringing through the forest. A series of footsteps and a voice calling out: “Syndri? Syndri? Where are you, brother?”

“He’s coming along quickly now,” Fritjof gasped quickly turning back to the lad, “Tell him to accept my challenge. That is all I ask of you.”

“...alright...” Syndri hesitated, “But I am sure that he will still refuse. He has grown from the lad he was long ago. He has no reason to fight you, and so he shant.”

Fritjof exhaled in disappointment, realizing that he may never fulfill his wish of challenging The Great Magnar of Dryhtenhaven. Lowering the blade away from Syndri’s throat, he sighed and turned away.

“It’s not as if he has a vendetta against you,” Syndri murmured involuntarily as Fritjof loosened his grip.

At the sound of these words, Fritjof’s eyes lit up and his fist grasped hold of the lad’s collar once again. Syndri realized his mistake, but it was too late. He despairingly gazed into the killer’s sinister eyes as he felt the blade plunge through his side.

“Thanks for the idea,” Fritjof smiled evilly, “Should have thought of it myself.”

My heart flows to meet

The end of the horizon

No one comes to see me

Alone with the sunset

No one is here for me

Deep sorrow flows from the lone red sun

Under blankets of orange clouds

The sun fades away

From evil night skies ahead

My dear love, where are you?

When the sun is leaving the world

To rise another day without you

Please make this the last time

That you are apart from me

My dear moon rose,

Come flowing to the shoreline

Silently into my open arms

https://youtu.be/-b8_89vlkaI

(Same Lullaby again)

*I’m obsessed with it, sorry guys.*

You are the wind

that blows through

my heart, where it

is perpetually Fall,

Tossing up maple leaves,

Wafting cinnamon,

Carrying the laughter

of children;

One could not be

without the other

feelings

oh

feelings that aren't my own

no

aren't they?

disconnected

they'd say

just a whisper,

yes?

feelings

just

little shimmers of things

feeding animals

like myself

not

mine. i don't really

feel

i guess

it's not the same, anyway

no.

I can't say I have

haven't i

it's just

the tumbling of

strange? feelings

lost in the

hole

in my chest

She lives in daydreams with me

I don’t know why, no idea

She’s a tear in my heart

I’m on fire, cut me farther

She plays songs I’ve never heard

And my bones start breaking

My heart starts shaking

Since we know my

Dreams are dead please, oh

Please, lets pretend I can

Treat you better than anyone else can

You’re so golden as I open my eyes

And I have no idea, no

Instructions, I’m freaking out

The story of my life

I take her home

Remember when I was

Falling in love, oh

And we danced all night

Smooth as silky lightening in

The incandescent air

Emotion, devotion

Coming to take my life

I know what it’s like

I fell for it twice and

Now I’m just warning you

Just say the word and

I’ll go anywhere blindly

They said run, don’t walk away

Now I’m a little too late

The way you bend the rules

We’re waking up to ash and dust

Everything, everything you touch turns to gold

We’ve got to get away we’ve got to

We’ve got to turn up the crazy

Meet me in the hallway and

Just let me dance, there’s

Nothing holding me back

Breathe me in, breathe me out

She wants me, she needs me

Nobody can take me

Nobody can drag me down

I like the way you talk, about

Staring in the clouds to

Our big bright future

It’s fun to fantasize about our

High, high hopes please

Don’t ever change please

Don’t give up it’s a little complicated

I’m bleeding out for you

You tell me to hold on

You tell me to hold on blasting

Music from the car radio

More, I need more

More to put my mind at ease

If this is a dream, don’t wake me

The man was in bed, and he dreamed.

He dreamed himself becoming the best in his field of news reporting. He was sure to rocket to the top, and dig deep for content that would change the world.

--If he tried.

Later, he thought himself a voice actor. He was sure he would be able to perfect the voice of the dastardly villain cursing the hero in the Saturday morning cartoons.

--If he tried.

Much later, the man pondered, and wondered if something was wrong with him. He should be able to fix himself.

--If he tried.

If only tomorrow were today, he thought.

The man was in bed, and he dreamed.

but it is was so little

a drool and a spittle

that fell from her mouth

so with civil acquittal

dismissed this dental drizzle

and still asked her out

09/06/2020

His soul was the color

of broken glass

and creaking ice

a moment before

the plunge.

she fell.

His soul was the space

between the fine print-

so when he took her breath away

she didn't know

he wouldn't be giving it back.

she can't breathe.

And when the day ends

she is chained

to the corpse of a man

who never had a soul

to begin with.

so maybe she'll give him hers.

tearing it to ribbons

and pressing the silken fragments to cold lips.

but they flutter to the floor,

like the bloodied bodies of slain doves

and she learns

that love cannot be taught.

There's no sorrowful night like the one spent on your knees, 

as the one in which you're forgetting your name and

stitching a new one. as the one in which you cry your

saint's names over and over, even if you suspect they forgot you 

long ago. gentle hands and whispers caress your face by day, and you

weep by night, because your lungs are an ocean, hope turns into

blade. 

there's no place that comforts a face without a name, 

and in this moment of waiting, these seconds of hesitation, 

you'd breathe easier if no one saw you, no one met you, 

what is transformation inside a home? what is, but a 

circus show? 

As you breathe in and out, you realize you're scared. 

You're just scared. 

For how long? It settles beneath your eyelids every night, 

scared and sorrowful you sit. 

alone and loved you wait. 

And the wait stretches until morning.