All Ends Cold and WildA fairytale by the Oneiroi, translated.All Ends Cold and Wild by ~Flamsmark
They have travelled far and wide, the lonely man of many faces and his faithful follower. They've heard the hints of the dark dog begotten of time's storm; won the battle at the falls of Stheno's youngest, cursed sister; and each escaped Anesidora's entrapping tomb.
They travel together in an ancient, stolen vessel, inadequately maintained, and insufficiently repaired. The interior is spacious, filled with the technical apparatus needed to pilot such a complex craft. The workmanship is arcane: once beautiful and elegant, now extensively jury-rigged, a half-working relic of the majestic civilization which constructed it. There were once fleets of these, each piloted by six skilled crew; now the lonely man may be the only being left who can even come close to manning the helm.
Today, however, is not his day. Without ill-wind or storm, obstacle or shoal, the craft flies wild through dark skies, cartwheeling back and forth without rhyme or reason, be
And did those feet...I met a traveller from an antique landAnd did those feet... by ~Flamsmark
And did those feet in ancient time.
Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Walk upon Englands mountains green:
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
And was the holy Lamb of God,
On Englands pleasant pastures
a shattered visage lies,
And did the Countenance Divine,
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive,
And was Jerusalem builded here,
stamped on these lifeless things,
Among these dark Satanic Mills?
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
Bring me my Bow of burning gold;
Bring me my Arrows of desire:
"My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!
Bring me my Chariot of fire!
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!"
I will not cease from Mental Fight,
Nothing beside remains.
Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand:
Round the decay
Have you ever had that dream?have you ever had that dreamHave you ever had that dream? by ~Flamsmark
you're in the forest,
hungry - angry - malevolant;
it's dark - not too dark
(you can see, just)
but it's misty;
and the leafy ground is soft,
warm and moist under your feet.
and a twig snaps
you spin around
and start running.
you're chasing someone
(you don't know who)
and you know that they can't see you
but they can sense you
the invisible threat
and you're following them
(through the woods)
and you never get much closer
(but no further away either)
and you know that they're afraid
and you know that - when you catch them -
something will happen
but you don't know what
and you don't know how you know
and you don't know how long you've been running
but you know that you'll keep on chasing
as long as they keep on fleeing
(which they do, of course)
fleeing through your woods
alien to them
and then -
without warning -
you're upon them
right beind them
about to catch them
but you don't
(catch them, that is)
you wake up
in a cold sweat,
or maybe a hot on