@kindlyiscatter
hope is a childish idea, composed by youth who have not yet tasted the ash and desecration the world leaves. man, with their self-entitled ideals, had brought notice to it first. held it in hand alongside their primitive weapons and first foundations of dust, but hope has grown. it has grown into a fairy tale thought, spun thick and deep over years and through the lakes and towns of remnant into a collection of rumors. silver eyes. though when she sees a face of hope tucked neatly and safely into a smaller soul does she feel pity. false, brief, and a question hinted with irrelevance rises. ( a smaller soul, who will die and suffer just as the rest of them. ) ❛ ...tell me, child. do thorns exist on roses for protection from the world, or from one’s self? ❜
