Plus Qu'une Histoire

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Plus Qu'une Histoire

Post by Phoenix on Thu Jun 11, 2015 4:58 am

These are small excerpts from a book I'm compiling for the sake of my own sanity. I'll post little updates as I write them. Otherwise, enjoy. Feedback is welcomed.


'For I would surrender every word of my tongue for one chance to speak a word of my soul....
As you, dearest to my heart, understand not the language of men - the words wrought by those who fear the path which we tread.
No, you are versed in the purest of languages. The unspoken touch of one soul to another, that invades the mind - even in the deepest of sleep - and clears the conscience.....
The words of a man's tongue are shallow. Forgettable. They fade away with goodbye, lost on accustomed ears and guarded hearts.
But deep within the confines of my mind shackles have been broken, and - as if the essence of my existence has been shaken - I am now hesitant to speak with the tongue I've so long relied on.
For you cannot hear the words of a man. Only the unfiltered words of a soul that yearns for the liberation that you never knew you could provide.'




'And it, like a spark ejected from the mouth of a roaring flame, had lit upon the ground and shed its lustre before the unbeaten path. And I wept. I fell to the ground and grasped. Towards what, I fear I may never know. Perhaps the light of the sun, having settled behind the trees along the duskened horizon.
Perhaps.... Any light. Her light.... Gone. All gone.
Soon the rain came, and fell upon the dirt. I could not tell my tears from the rain, nor could I tell them from any other tears.
Maybe she is crying too.
As drops began to wash over me, I felt myself slipping away. First my toes, then my legs. Soon I could not move, only weep.
The chorus of the cloudburst echoed overhead.
And I screamed at the lightning, as even its volatile existence granted it purpose; for the lightning is free to disappear in the same moment that it exists.
And I lamented to the winds, for their tortured howls brought respite to my soul; for the wind travels, but never arrives.
And I damned the waters, for each tear I shed merely lent itself to the river that ran between me and her.
Gone. All gone.
And I cursed each breath I drew. Wretched, spiteful breaths, the kinds of which rip air from the outside into your lungs. For with each breath, I knew the spark was gone.
And it was there, amongst the trees battered by some gale, that I shed the last tear.'




'Exhilarated. Enraptured, even.
No.
Engulfed. And plummeting. Into someone. Something. Far greater than myself.
Cold winter air separated us, and nothing else. Not the clothing on our backs, nor those who passed between us. In that moment, only we existed. Two humans, not on separate ends of a busy walkway, but opposite each other on the precipice of a shared existence.
Myself, only a man. And her - indubitably divine.
By the time I had lived to see that morning my world had grown dim. Dim with the fading colours that once danced across my eyes, and dim with my dwindling hope of ever truly being alive.
And yet, there she stood. If in the oeuvre of a god had ever existed such sublimity, surely any man would would not hesitate to turn to worship.
I began to wonder how much time had passed, how I could've lost myself in a her. She was just a girl. It was only a moment, nothing more.
Just a girl.
Only a moment.
Nothing.'




'What.
What about her, within her, around or outside.... Why does she linger?
She is everywhere.
When I wake, she wakes. And as I sleep, she sleeps.
Everywhere, she exists.
And when I close my eyes, we are alone.
It is then that I lose sight. Of my path and of any purpose I entertain....
What.
What primordial connection is it to which I give power over my existence?
I act according to her whisper in my ear, and when she fades I fade.
And then I awake - her commands having been figments of shattered, wistful, wonderful dreams - and I question what is true.
Perhaps nothing is true.
Except that maybe. Just maybe.
She is not true.
She is not a girl.
She is not a moment.
What....
More.'




'My mind has waged war, and it has become the battleground of some emotional genocide.
Thoughts are stricken down by the overarching fear of losing control.
Reality wanes and every expansion of the world seems to limit the realm in which I exist.
Is there a limit to the population of thoughts that I can have about you?
Each breath holds a sigh of delight and a choke of fear; every moment I breathe is you.
Complete sensual intoxication.
Your aura blankets my world with light that permeates the dusk of my dawn. An opiate of my soul, you reach every corner of my being and illuminate me.
Your mind has been shaped by the indescribable ecstasy and unspeakable grief of your encounters. Your courage and your fear, a terrible friction.
Your form, like flesh from marble, radiates - the product of an otherworldly craftsman. Time itself is not worthy of appreciating such intricacy. It consumes, rewrites any other beauty. What can compare?
And your eyes.... Damn them. Your creator has given you sight.
Why can you not see?'




As the ribbon of my dream faded from my memory, I grasped for it. 'Do not leave me yet; it is too soon. You owe me this, elusive one.'
My hand tightly holding the remnants of my temporary reality,
I plunge myself in once more.
It is then that I am back, returned to that place.
You before me, just like before. Just as you were.
This fleeting expanse of the mind, this painted realm - it is fading quickly.
How could something so immortal be so mortal?
This beauty, once carved into my mind never to be removed before me once again....

'I will never see you again.' My eyes devour her lucent form, taking in every last detail, for the last time.
I approach her, my quick steps taking eons to bring me close enough.
My hand reaches out for hers instinctually, and connects only with her phosphenes as our encounter slips away.
'When will you be back', I shout into the sky after her as she ascends.
A single tear rolls down her cheek, sending shattered light rays in every direction as it cascades. As the tear descends upon me, I awake.


Last edited by Phoenix on Thu May 12, 2016 11:24 pm; edited 6 times in total
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Re: Plus Qu'une Histoire

Post by Phoenix on Thu Jun 11, 2015 5:39 am

Updated.
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Re: Plus Qu'une Histoire

Post by Phoenix on Fri Jun 12, 2015 1:56 am

Updated.
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Re: Plus Qu'une Histoire

Post by Phoenix on Sat Jun 20, 2015 3:57 am

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Re: Plus Qu'une Histoire

Post by Phoenix on Thu May 12, 2016 11:24 pm

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