The Glass Flower · 11:26pm Nov 7th, 2018
"By the light of the stars in the desolate dark, an island once sat in the sky;
And amidst sand and shale was a flower of glass, that once caught a spark by the eye.
And the spark said 'sweet bloom, I shall grant you a boon lest you perish amidst blighted loam;'
'If your lips have ne'er been kindly kissed by the green, then amidst it I'll grant you a home.'
And so the spark gave it a home."
"And the flower grew tall, and it glittered and gleamed, and its brilliance surpassed the light;
Of bright fruits and hale grain the glass flower did eat, and its pollen-seeds spread to the night.
But the night loved it less than oblivion's caress, and swore the bloom would feel its sting.
And on one sunny morn where the flower was born, it was visited there by a king;
It was met by the gaze of the king."
"And the king said aloud: 'I am lord of the dust, and your gleaming affronts my demesne;
For the darkness is pure, it is candid and true, and your colour is naught but profane."
And he plucked from his calf an obsidian staff and he struck at the glass flower's head.
Though it pleaded in vain, the bloom's pate caved in twain, and it fell to the loam almost dead;
Then the king knelt and plucked off its head."
"And the barley and rye mourned the flower's cruel fate, 'til a locust flew down to its leaf.
And it spoke to the green 'though the blossom is done, we should never succumb to our grief.'
'That the flower lives on, I shall forfeit my heart.' And the locust tucked his head and ate.
And his belly and wings turned to splendorous things, while the creature awaited his fate.
Though trembling, he accepted his fate."
"And the light of the flower still shone through the world, but forever tainted by scorn,
For the rage of the king tore the locust's frail frame. Though the creature stood, tattered and worn,
It still carried the light! It still beat back the night! And though famine exacted its toll,
Through its hunger and pain, the locust did refrain: 'For the flower, I'll forfeit my soul.'
'For its light I shall forfeit my soul' "
"From the flower's last seeds came more creatures of thought, those that wrote and that sung and that played;
But from pain and from hunger, the locust's visage made the seed-creatures naught but afraid.
And they cried bitter tears, 'til the forms of their fears took in sorrowful flight to the sky
And were seen nevermore to the seeds they adored, but in exile they did not die.
For the love of the life they had scarred themselves for, they never would let themselves die.
And through hunger and pain, these pure souls still refrain:
'For the love of the glass and the spark of the past,
I shall carry this weight
I shall accept my fate
That the glass flower's light never dies!' "
beu-ti-ful
Take note: this is how a good piece of poetry is done.
~Skeeter The Lurker
Holy fuzz, this is beautiful.
What tales would the changelings tell of themselves?
This is a question a TRUE writer asks of his creations. A writer does not demand that they tell his story, but begs humbly that they help him tell theirs to the world.
NICE! So sad for the flower and the seed-creatures. This sounds like the kind of tale changelings would use to explain why many bugs have such glossy, beautiful glass-like wings.