she blooms upon the seventh hour of the seventh night, heralded by ghost - lights drifting along somber shorelines. the moon has never been so full. full from her desires, her wayward wishes hung upon a string wrapped around a humble tree branch. wind - chimes sing softly, the sparrows echo out from the deep, deep darkness which overflows behind their heads. they too starve for freedom  —  for their wings to truly unravel. 

a garden of bones & teeth. a shrine full of dreams & broken wrists. 

desires can be fleeting at best. forever transient, forever obscure ; permeating lavender swathed in swollen silk (  the frost here thaws, it dreams of another lilac morn ). she does not know what it is to fly though she would love to learn. perhaps her flight differs, her wings are unseen. the way her furs sway like curled clouds & how her voice sat aloft the air. amaterasu -  ōmikami nods, letting the sadness leave her chest. 

❛ you will.  ❜ 

—— and she still dances. upon a ring of mountain blossoms, she craves her freedom - fleeting, yet it is desirable as the last song left upon a stormy wind.   the bones of what her life was  meant to be ; what she was meant to discern ... this is what it meant to be in servitude to destiny ; what it meant to truly be submissive to a gilded cage.

her bones ache, but her will is strong.  an indifferent smile graces the air between them and casts her regrets unto the wind. (  for anger lasts only a moment, but the gods’ favor lasts a lifetime —— weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning. )

      time and movement drew up short,  a breath of wintry aspiration,  frozen like ice in permafrost.   the poetry of her presence seeps into the air where the attendant answers her sentry’s call.  ‘twas as if they stood in a formless dream,  reprieved of all simple things yet coddled to the bone with gentle boughs.  beyond these woodland realms lay lonely courts once filled with broken gods.  their ghosts linger still,  phantom - eyed and humble.  

         ❛  it need not be a burden borne alone. ❜  her voice is soft.  sonorous and unyielding.  when her word is spoken it is heard unto the weeping branches,  whispered atop pools of water.  ❛  his hands shall linger still,  but it is the lady’s touch that shall ease his sorrow. ❜

          christened , softened light ; it brew here , where temporal stasis wafted through wind between the trees and ghosts of somber  octobers  came and went.  no more were the fires of niflheim , no longer were children suffering.  yet the nightmares persisted ; and even in waking moments was she ever so attentive —— the leaves were the ears of the enemy.  but would they know the secrets of her heart so fondly? 

     lunar mirth glowed beneath flaxen tress ; dearly , fondly remembered  &  yet , slowly drained.  ( they would never know her pain. )  to be so promised a joyous day  &  yet denied visions of her affection — she missed him so.  her companion would understand.  her songs would be lost within waves of green ; she has often dreamed of her homeland in ruins , wrought by fire  &  daemons.  her prayers have saved her more than once , but she is aware that it may not be for long.  (  ❝ thou shalt not fear the terror of the night, nor the arrow that flies by day ... ❞ )

ngl i yelled when i saw you follow me i'm so GLA

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