Solitude
Solitude
I reached out my hand in the darkened room, stretched thin with hope that pierced the gloom,
A whispered plea to find a friend, someone to stay, not just pretend.
I stitched my heart with threads of grace, a gentle smile, an open face,
Built bridges tall with trembling hands, to hold them close in shifting sands.
But one by one, they turned away, left me to the hollow gray, each promise made, each thread unwound, each face that left without a sound.
I chased their shadows, begged them stay, watched as they all slipped away, until my voice grew thin and dry, and all my tears refused to cry.
Now silence hums where echoes bled, a quiet home inside my head, I’ve locked the door, I’ve thrown the key,
And vowed to let no others see.
For it’s safer here where darkness weaves, no hopes to break, no hands to leave, I’ll walk this path alone, and know,
No one stays; they always go
~ Khai Moffett
More Posts from Khaidrate and Others
Jason: “There’s only one person that can get me on my knees.”
Dick: “If you say ‘Jesus’ again, I’m gonna lose it-“
Jason: “Roy.”
Dick: “oh. okay.”
Dick:
Dick: “wait what-“
i refuse to defend my favorite characters. They did that horrible thing bc they suck really bad
Orin baldursgate is conceptually the funniest character of all time on account of simultaneously being a changeling whose whole thing is SHE COULD BE ANYONE AT ANY TIME who also she cannot refrain for more than 45 seconds from monologuing about getting into someone’s thoracic cavity with her teeth and lovingly tearing all the heart-muscle to pearly pink ribbons
How their S support really like
The city burns. The archdemon’s roar shakes the earth. At the heart of the battle, Genevieve Cousland stands at the edge of fate, knowing there is only one path left to take. The Calling whispers in her blood, in her bones. There is no future beyond this moment - only the choice to make her death mean something. She carves her way toward the end she always knew was waiting for her, and when the time comes, when steel and fire and destiny collide, she does not hesitate.
Far behind her, King Alistair watches as the woman he loves disappears into the storm. By the time he reaches her, it is too late.
Soil in the dirt, blood to feed it, bones to build it, flame to purge it. In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice.
You can only reblog this on Tuesday
In fact, I would say he’s unwell
Hi! Quick question to Nightwing fans
Is he well, mentally?
quixotic
in realms of magic, far away, they wander where the dragons play
A hero's sword within their hand, and castles rise on shifting sand
They ride the storm, command the sea, unlock the doors to mystery
a cloak of myths, a crown of lore,
they step through each enchanted door where giants fall and kingdoms grow
and every path a tale to know
but as the tale begins to slow, they feel a chill, a sinking low
the wonders dim, the colors fide like morning mist in evening's shade
they turn to speak, but no one's near
no voice to calm, no soul to hear, the silence holds a hollow tone
they lift their eyes and they're alone
~ Khai Moffett
my first, and perhaps only important post on Tumblr:
why isn't Dammon a romanceable character
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