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Once again I find my rest disrupted with visions and thoughts of what I cannot have, of what I can only dream of obtaining. Some may call it weakness, others may call it proof that my heart is not completely stone. Still, it is a throbbing wound that continues to make it's presence known. I rose from my solitude to pace beneath the blanket of night yet I cannot hide from the moon. It shows me what I am, what I want so desperately. That tempting body of light whispers sweet promises of power, the means to get what I would give anything for. The very thought excites me and pains me to my bones. How is it that mortals understand? How can they fathom living through this day after day, even dying without obtaining it? I fear that I shall never know this. All that is left for me is to try. To hope and do what it takes, whatever that may be.
 Lord Bloodthorne · Fri Jan 07, 2011 @ 02:00pm · 0 Comments |
