The morning after is strangely calm.
"Morning is blissful because it has
no memories."
says the sylph, rifling through her satchel.
"It only thinks about the
future, what it wants to do,
where it wants to go.
"Then the evening comes,
who remembers
the weight of
the world.
Sometimes it hides behind clouds and
cries."
"And of the night?"
"The night, knowing the sorrows of her siblings,
casts a veil over
everyone else.
She gathers all the suffering she can and swallows it
whole."
"Does it hurt?"
"Sometimes."
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 1:52 AM UTC
The morning after is strangely calm.
"Morning is blissful because it has
no memories."
says the sylph, rifling through her satchel.
"It only thinks about the
future, what it wants to do,
where it wants to go.
"Then the evening comes,
who remembers
the weight of
the world.
Sometimes it hides behind clouds and
cries."
"And of the night?"
"The night, knowing the sorrows of her siblings,
casts a veil over
everyone else.
She gathers all the suffering she can and swallows it
whole."
"Does it hurt?"
"Sometimes."
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