#gehalten

steht kurz vor dem Zerfall.

Hoffnung ist ein Funke,

jedes Wort von Gott mein Halt, verankert in Gnade,

von Liebe ergriffen,

gehalten,

wenn ich

Seit Du mich gehalten hast

Als Du mich hochhobst, so unvermittelt und überraschend, da war es, dass ich nicht wusste, wie ich sollte, im ersten Moment. War ich doch ausgeliefert. Eigentlich. Ohne Ausweg, musste ich bleiben. Mein erster Impuls war, wieder hinunterzuwollen. So wie ich es gewohnt war, wie ich es immer kannte. Wollte ich doch niemals so etwa erleben, dass ich nicht konnte wie ich wollte, und wenn dieses Wollen…

she was the picture of confusion, puzzlement. surely she did not think that he still thought as lowly of her as he once had! it was true that she did not incite passion in him then, she had not triggered any feelings of romanticism or intrigue, but he found that after he had slowly gotten to understand her, a different kind of romance had blossomed.

and now, the thought of another man snatching her from his dish was more than enough to force his hand. he was incredibly lonely, barely anything resembling a man and he knew what it was that he wanted to fulfil that void inside of him. he needed a woman to dote upon. and why not her? she was the only living woman whom he felt had always been loyal to him and given him what it was he asked for, when asked for it.

he stopped in the doorway, having made a move to leave the room when he words had drawn him to his halt. the king paused there for a long moment, before deigning to glance at her over his shoulder. he truly did not know what to believe from any woman any longer. they were fonts of deceit, lies. they drew his ire, they destroyed his dreams. yet anne was kind, generous, and she always seemed to save a smile for him. it was a balm, after the blackness his heart was left with.

Mein look: Samstag locker