Once again, I find myself looking down upon the battlefield of loneliness. No sunshine warms my skin; only the silvery moonlight drizzles through lazy, drifting clouds. For, this is a battle, fought time and again, that takes place only in the darkness beyond the witching hour.
Standing alone, looking over the precipice that is the end of my world, I question my heart as to why it has returned me here yet again. This is a battle lost countless times in the past; yet, here I stand, once more ready to take up arms to join the fray. But, with what do I hope to arm myself?? Nothing has turned the tide in the past, and I now find myself short of even those failed armaments. Strength?? No. Courage? No. Wisdom?? Hehheh. If THAT were the case, I wouldn't find myself here to begin with. So it seems I step into battle unarmed, unarmored; with nothing more than my heart on my sleeve, and a tear in my eye. The Gods once again seem unfavorable toward my being victorious.
Returning my sight to the field below, I can now make out movement in the darkness. All of these feelings that roil and churn inside of me have been made flesh, now standing to present my defeat. As of so many horsemen, girded in armor, weapons at the ready, I now see these figures slowly withdraw from the inky blackness. They take formation, a phalanx of fear, hatred, and innocence lost; standing at the ready to stop my old/new journey before it can even begin once more. Equestrian warriors span before me, from one horizon to the next. There is no hope of victory, yet no other option than to continue on. Such is my fate, time after time, life after life. Without hesitation, I begin my final descent.
I carelessly make my way down a darkened and winding path, not caring where my footfalls land. With eyes cast to the earth, I think only of the motion of my feet.
Left foot, right foot, hay foot, straw foot.
The noise of my travel flushes a hare from her hidden burrow, spooking her into flight before me. If only to have the wisdom of that poor timid soul. To be able to bolt from that which I fear, do not comprehend, I would gladly give my life. But such is not meant for me. Mine is a battle of folly, to be fought, and lost, time and again. No lesson learned, no ground gained; simply a device for the amusement of half-living gods not of this world, not of MY world.
The rabbit has now fled into the darkness behind me. Jealously, I wish her luck on her own travels, wondering for a moment if it is her fate to be devoured by the beasts of this world, or to continue to spend days as carefree as ever. These thoughts I let go of at the sudden rustle now much closer to me.
As I come to ground, the darkened battlefield now opens before me. The weight of a thousand sets of eyes is upon me, smothering my soul. With one step, and then another, I draw ever closer to that which I know awaits me. As if sensing the very doubt in my heart, they begin their charge. The air is filled with the meeting of hand-forged metal against metal; the hoof-struck ground rings out like a silently screaming thunderstorm; the whinninying grunts of the steeds filling my ears. Closer and closer, they rapidly close the distance between us. Faceless demons on horseback bear down now, almost upon me. The glowing red eyes of their mounts hover above equine faces, snorting and spitting blood and froth. The distance is now at an end. I stop, and stand, holding the ground on which I find myself. I do not move, I do not speak. And with only one thought, I close my eyes to the horde before me:
I wonder why it should have been any different this time........
Standing alone, looking over the precipice that is the end of my world, I question my heart as to why it has returned me here yet again. This is a battle lost countless times in the past; yet, here I stand, once more ready to take up arms to join the fray. But, with what do I hope to arm myself?? Nothing has turned the tide in the past, and I now find myself short of even those failed armaments. Strength?? No. Courage? No. Wisdom?? Hehheh. If THAT were the case, I wouldn't find myself here to begin with. So it seems I step into battle unarmed, unarmored; with nothing more than my heart on my sleeve, and a tear in my eye. The Gods once again seem unfavorable toward my being victorious.
Returning my sight to the field below, I can now make out movement in the darkness. All of these feelings that roil and churn inside of me have been made flesh, now standing to present my defeat. As of so many horsemen, girded in armor, weapons at the ready, I now see these figures slowly withdraw from the inky blackness. They take formation, a phalanx of fear, hatred, and innocence lost; standing at the ready to stop my old/new journey before it can even begin once more. Equestrian warriors span before me, from one horizon to the next. There is no hope of victory, yet no other option than to continue on. Such is my fate, time after time, life after life. Without hesitation, I begin my final descent.
I carelessly make my way down a darkened and winding path, not caring where my footfalls land. With eyes cast to the earth, I think only of the motion of my feet.
Left foot, right foot, hay foot, straw foot.
The noise of my travel flushes a hare from her hidden burrow, spooking her into flight before me. If only to have the wisdom of that poor timid soul. To be able to bolt from that which I fear, do not comprehend, I would gladly give my life. But such is not meant for me. Mine is a battle of folly, to be fought, and lost, time and again. No lesson learned, no ground gained; simply a device for the amusement of half-living gods not of this world, not of MY world.
The rabbit has now fled into the darkness behind me. Jealously, I wish her luck on her own travels, wondering for a moment if it is her fate to be devoured by the beasts of this world, or to continue to spend days as carefree as ever. These thoughts I let go of at the sudden rustle now much closer to me.
As I come to ground, the darkened battlefield now opens before me. The weight of a thousand sets of eyes is upon me, smothering my soul. With one step, and then another, I draw ever closer to that which I know awaits me. As if sensing the very doubt in my heart, they begin their charge. The air is filled with the meeting of hand-forged metal against metal; the hoof-struck ground rings out like a silently screaming thunderstorm; the whinninying grunts of the steeds filling my ears. Closer and closer, they rapidly close the distance between us. Faceless demons on horseback bear down now, almost upon me. The glowing red eyes of their mounts hover above equine faces, snorting and spitting blood and froth. The distance is now at an end. I stop, and stand, holding the ground on which I find myself. I do not move, I do not speak. And with only one thought, I close my eyes to the horde before me:
I wonder why it should have been any different this time........
