A disturbing dream. . .
Dream or nightmare. . . the thorn of the black rose penetrating my temple or was it the petals of it's darkness caressing my lips. I do not know. . .
I thought I laid to sleep, I know it was late, I know I am rambling I know I know . . . I KNOW. . . but the dream was so real. . .
Silver light sparkled on the air, which suddenly turned cold and drew with it an unyielding wind.
Tall and imposing, an ornate throne rose at the distant end of the room upon a dais fashioned of sanguine-veined ebon marble. Moonlight streamed in through floor-to-ceiling windows covered in silk sheers that flutter in a cool breeze, offering a glimpse of snow covered peaks beyond and if you just turned your head right, just enough . . . the volcano mountain of Teras too. A pair of golden candelabras spread their filigreed arms toward the distant ceiling and provided a soft illumination for all under their glow.
I stood at the window, it isn't an unfamiliar place, But the fear in my heart was. The trembling in my soul foreign. I could hear his voice but could not see him.
"All our times have come."
If my flesh could of fallen off and crawled away, it would of.
"Together in entirety".
I felt so lost. I despised it. He wanted me to take His hand. He scorned me. But who was He? Who was it haunting my mind that I feared.
"Your time has come."
I felt pulled to His world. It was clear I could not go on, resistance was futile. I took several steps back. . . the windows blew open and the wind caressed my body as if it was the finest of silk. The candle flickered and the flame disappeared. The fear was gone. I felt my eyes close for a moment and when they opened He had appeared, a dark figure in this cold room with his hand extended.
"Take it"
I ran to Him, taking His hand. When we started to fly and the walls shattered. It was to late to pull back. The grip tighten. no longer his hand in mine, but the long fingers wrapped around my wrist. As I tried to fall away, feelings evolved and my screaming began, a feeling of sickness within spread. His blood and mine, the two a lump sum of one.
"We'll be fine when your body will be mine and your spirit broken."
I do not understand how quickly things changed. The grip released, I fell from flying and hit the bed where I lay sleeping, waking with a start in a colder sweat then I have ever experienced. I wondered how I was to go on for a moment. If perhaps it was time to change my ways.
It was so real, real enough that even as I write I can see the nail marks left in my wrist from His . . His? Someone’s? Something’s! grip.
I felt shaken enough to write this down. To mark it somewhere. Its been so long ago since I have done this. My life is 'normal' and I no longer felt the need to write, everything was forgotten. Happiness no longer eludes me but this dream. . . what could it possible mean?
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Riddle me this:
Lives without a body, hears without ears, speaks without a mouth, to which the air alone gives birth.
What is it?
The dungeon Master shall bring forth your greatest fears, your demons will awaken. Look within your pain, seek peace.
- unknown.