| Subject: .butyoujustfoundme. |
Author:
a s t r a
|
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
Date Posted: 17:55:23 06/01/03 Sun
In reply to:
Enchancee
's message, "() To much lost ()" on 00:48:03 06/01/03 Sun
It is daunting, that a creature born under moonlight's innocence could be so cold and unforgiving... That maybe she is a bitter missionary for causes that demand even the darkest hearts learn a new level to their evil. She is the silver banshee with a shallow heart and lack of moral; she is the bitter mistake they call Astra.
From so many jewelers, there have only been a handful of accidents that can be called serendipity, to create an unimaginable perfection in a diamond, to rival the stars in the sky.
It's like that when the black hands molded the epitome of what he stood for into reality, a pleasant surprise when set against almost unchangeable failure. And so she stands, his missionary, his own jealously guarded creation.
...at least that was how it was supposed to be - I suppose even evil makes mistakes. He forgot to take away her independence. But perhaps Khastin’s intentions were true—this mistake was to live and follow in the hollowed footsteps of a bastion he only barely articulated. Of course we speak of this diamond in the rough, jagged edges caused from a bitter hatred for all but family.
aLL bUT fAMILY.
However, her physical retort was erratic when the inimitable orbs lay across the monochromatic form of her mother; which she was already well versed in from a trivial jostle from the ‘olfactories. Intimidating, indeed, bountiful was the muscle; no doubt a result of garish curiosity, drawing the alabaster pelt tightly over a bulging form.
Spandex. Hee hee.
But beneath the intimidation there was a brazen determination, a bold grit setting her apart from the others and which invariably gave the maternity test. She was barefaced, dexterous, dynamic, forceful, grandiose. And on those hoary lips spread a grin like a virus, revealing miniscule ivories, which merely exist for intimidation. However, deeper, and still visible in those eyes which shone mute emotions like a flashcard, showed perhaps less tainted sentiments. Admiration, absolutely; the grandeur form was coupled and lustrous, and Astra’s gangly carcass just wasn’t what she’d hoped for in the cards. And love as well.
Love! Dear God, what taboo.
The ardency was there, perhaps because it was born there, but nevertheless it thrives in the crater of her psyche. Her tiny tail writhed with ember, commencing to thump arithmetically upon the dusted plantation.
Hey momma.
.A S T R A.
.the untouched chasm.
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
| |
