All things come, all things go. Never quick, never slow. Some things creep yet others weave so gently through the night into the waiting dawn where we can no longer follow. And in life, no cycle comes without an eternal end.
"To die, to sleep,
To sleep - perchance to dream - ay, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil."
(Hamlet, III.I.LXIV-LXVII)
We are no beast.
We are but the saints.
We are not to blame.
The only monsters that linger
Lie but outside the soul.
Whose claws are these?
Whose wild eyes gaze out across the lake,
Reflecting the madness of
a beast?
Surely
not I.
We, like brambles
We, like seers of shadows
creep these gnarled fingers
across this mortal coil.
Blinded, we stumble
deeper into the nature of things.
But how much easier it is
to be like the bramble,
ignorant to everything
but its shadows.
It is said that when one walks amongst the Elder Forest one walks amongst its people, and the trees grow mightier still with songs of ancient beings, faces etched in reverence for what none now can see.
"I have grown old and weary. It is time I let others take of me as I have taken of the sea." So he passed, and his body formed the corals, the anemones, the seaweed. He became the shelter of many, the food for thousands yet born. He will always be...the Keeper of the Sea | Drawn for #mermay
Seth ©noctem-tenebris
Inspired by Tony DiTerlizzi
Fanart of Alucard from Castlevania
For it is inevitable that we have found glory in death.
So became our destiny.
So lives our humanity.
