My lady (Patreon)

Good evening my dears. I hope you are doing well. This mind of my own is reeling in a perpetual state of curious and profound sadness. The back of the head as it were fills terribly cold. The unnatural weight upon the arms sets in so that the bones feel light in comparison. There are thoughts that find me, disjointed and broken as thinly carved stone meeting the earth. I am both in great distress and in humbled gratitude. I wish for this to be a reminder that in all things there can be a purpose made, and something conceived from that which we believe would take everything.

So I wish to share with you some words that find me in the cold November days. They are not as sharp nor honed as my more elaborate counterparts. They are however, between just you and me, a connection to my heart and in many ways my very soul. These are the words that are not thought, but felt.

Please grant us this one wish..

..make the whispered dreams true.

..Make the tales real..

My lady..I am sorry...this skin is cold again..

 On the shorelines..cannot breathe..

This body falling into another body. A nightmare..

Not strong enough..please..the stone..

Across the surface, please carry the stone..

So still, it's so still..my lady..please..