Imgormiel
Part of the furniture
- Joined
- Apr 18, 2004
- Messages
- 4,372
Her Maelstrom
Buried, under the sea.
I lay there encased in ashes.
Just a hollow seed.
Begging for a surface.
Her waters imprison me.
Even when she rests to recede.
To renew her strength of maelstrom.
I shut myself off in that grave.
Keeping the truth from the lies.
One day the sun shone on me.
Just enough for me to see, some hope of pollination.
With vengeance. she came for me.
Slowly killing me.
Washing away my leaves.
Nevertheless, not before I spread my petals.
The air carried me the spawn of me.
To a place of safe haven.
Now on ground safe from the beach.
I can feel her anger as I begin to renew again.
She cannot touch me.
Yet her voice still haunts me.
One day she will come to reclaim to kill me.
When the time has come to claim the rushes.
Yes, her voice still haunts me.
Her maelstrom still haunts me...