Defiant Hearts (A Spear of Light)

From ashes of a tree obsidian walls rise around.
A ghost conjuring tragedy. Don’t make a sound.

The Obsidian Lord feasts on the hysteria and fear.
Like exuberant birds scattered by a gunshot
We’re the prey in this great hunt. For every tear
They still offer us no mercy. Rage so hot
Burning the rope that we hold onto ever so dear
In hopes that we can find water. Caught
Between hurt and hope yet, tomorrow is so near.

From a well we can still replenish what’s been lost
In search of who we are. They don’t understand
What we have on the inside that keeps us going.

No matter the darkness standing right before us we walk
Without fear. Never give them an inch or they’ll talk and talk.

falcon
We can’t let them be victorious. Be defiant until your very last day.

The Creators of Fate: Humanity

I walk among statues of the people I swore I’d defend. They all stare at the center of the city, the Citadel of Lost Dreams. A group of cloaked men walk to the entrance but stop to look at me. One of them in the back touches their shoulders making them collapse lifelessly. Shadows cover his face and still I could see his eyes. In his eyes radiates a white, illuminated fury.

When a darkness manifests from our hearts
Into existence it’s a blight of the World Tree.
We tried living on green plains and to be free
But we burned it all away. The story repeats.

Twelve blights forsake the roots fighting to live
Among desiccation. We only take and never give.

So will you change before it’s too late?

sink
It takes just one act to change everything. . .

The Defiled Heart

The darkness inside lashes at my memories
In an attempt to steal who I am. It’s the mark
Burned into my flesh awaking my inner demons.

My wrath, lust, and pride slithering under my skin;
A burn that never goes away. Will they ever win?
I swallow my unsettled doubts, like pills with gin.

We don’t choose the fights we’re tossed into. Survive,
That’s what our hearts scream. Is that why I still strive?

Dark and cold black flames judge my heart to a feather.
I failed. Know that I’m not giving in. There’s a day that
I gotta see with these eyes and feel with these hands.
My wretched fate repeats day by day yet, I smile.

They call me Ariex Nightblade. I watched wars,
Witnessed genocide, killed a friend; I left
The Royal Protectorate to heal these scars.
This curse I took on instead of being ever so bereft.

My brother Synji bears the other mark.
The endarkened; the illuminated.
We serve two roles in a grand tragedy.

I need to survive. . .reject fate ordained.

sa;bdry

The Harbingers of the End

They were once best friends. Pride and greed
Warped their hearts. So everyone take heed:

The desire to reach what we don’t need hurts
In the end when we betray a friend. We can
Walk forward together instead of racing.
A race towards death? Nobody wants that.

In a world where the subconscious can change
Reality they get what’s coming. Their grudge
Led to their deaths but they won’t rest. Rage.

They chase after positions of power in a reborn world.
Leading armies of the dead, searching for a champion,
And laughing at the pain of others. The good won’t stand
By while darkness marches on. These actions started a war.

So if you only see your desires know that you’ll fall all alone,
Instead of meeting that end stand up with me. We are one.

sa;bdry
We can’t turn our backs on each other without ending up alone in the end.

To Face This Life

Still working on my first novella little by little. Everyday I find myself thinking about the plot. At a point I needed a break from writing it. The problem was created when I asked myself very honest questions. For example:
 
What is best for a person to do?
 
To lose yourself in the duty of others; to do what is expected of yourself; to live for something greater. I understand these points of view but I seek so much more. The closest to truth I found is in a quote from Gautama Buddha.
 
“Your purpose in life is to find your purpose and give your whole heart and soul to it.”
 
In the novella a man makes a promise to never resort to violence like the people who destroyed the life he once had. The friend he promised that to dies in his arms before he could tell her his true feelings. His world keeps turning on him but for this promise he’ll keep living on.
 
I started wondering about what that would feel. Reality will set in and each day will just get harder than the last. The truth is I am unsure if I could keep my word. True love stays around forever. She left a mark on him that cannot be erased. What if he uses violence to protect those hurt? Truthfully humanity talks in ideals. The truth should be unprecedented but simple like breathing.
The novella started teaching me more about life. I decided that maybe I need to understand much more before this novella can be. My poetry took root during that time of indecision. The plot of the novella haunted me each time I started to write. Life started creating more struggles for me to overcome. I lost a lot of things and thought I’d never recover.
Many of these lost things weren’t selfish. Strength of my muscles declining, body pain, and faith in what I promised to loved ones. I silenced my voice because I’m ready for the fight of a lifetime. To write about love and never reach it. . .to hold the hand of someone who wants to stay. Nobody will help me reach the girl I truly love and at least she tells me she truly loves me too. Every day I traverse leads me closer.
Will she or eternity catch me first?
Everyone tells me to enjoy what I have. I’m living in stasis, a pale dream of the greater whole. I try learning new things, dreaming of a happy day, believing time is on my side, and realizing I lie to myself. These lies ate everything I am. Until I can break free from them I’ll never understand how the novella ends. The pain keeps me from writing sometimes. And now I know why.
Life wants me to act even if I’m scared. FUCK IT, I WILL CHASE WHAT I BELIEVE IN UNTIL MY FINAL BREATH.
sa;bdry

The Grand Judge v. Desnei

A man who lost his life and turned into something called the Grand Judge had a very rough existence. He never knew his parents due to a terrorism attack at the hospital he was born. The government discarded him into an orphanage with no funding until a wealthy couple adopted him. They treated him more like a slave than a kid by never giving him an education.

Ultimately an elderly butler taught the kid to read. They spent hours talking about the glorious world out there. One day the adoptive father fired the man for what he did. The man asked to adopt the kid because this wasn’t right for them to do. After consideration he accepted the offer at a considerable monetary cost.

They walked across town to a house on the outskirts. He taught the kid a lot but his health kept declining. A sickness crept in and robbed the kind man of his life. Eventually the government took custody again sending him into the military as a child soldier. This one journey in life taught so much pain and hate to an already hurt human.

He hung himself. . .

Desnei met a lot of tragedy as well. He never took his own life but life tortured him in so many ways. Many of the events that lead Desnei into the darkest side of his world create the series Rise of the First Blight. He lives in a world created by the Grand Judge (after he lost his humanity by playing god for millions of years).

Desnei is the last hope for the Grand Judge to finally change his heart. . .


“Treacherous burner of the tapestry of fate,
I spent eons creating a perfect civilization
Where pain doesn’t exist. Only destruction
Followed their births. All the suffering I hate.

Why would you forsake my final grand plan?
With a single thought I could start over again.”

“What do you have to hate? The tears and blood
We spill have nothing to do with you. If your flood
Clears the slate we won’t vanish from where we stood.

Each civilization you destroyed remains within.
What are you running from? It cannot be us all.”

“I’m no god. I was just a man that gave up.
When I was given a choice I just ran far away
And the choice caught me. Given my wish
Because I must learn of something new.”

“Maybe that life isn’t something you can choose.
Life has been and will be. Are you afraid to lose?”

“I already lost. A cruel world where I didn’t belong
Lost me with a little rope. The world was so wrong.”

“I pity you. Did no one ever show you a little heart from the start?”

sa;bdry

Rayne’s Lamentation

I stand in the devastation wrought by conflict. The victors will someday say how they fought for some grand ideal and paved a way towards a better future. They will only speak a fable far away from truth. People died because of stubborn policies protected by stubborn men. What will I say to the youth about us survivors?
Whoever strikes first usually lives. Any hesitation will shatter your bones and collapse your innards. The ideals I stood behind vanished as blood and gore drained onto the ground. Nothing could save me from the nightmare. I changed into the person I loathed, a killer. We all did.
Everyone says I should lie to forget what happened. I can’t hide from what haunts me when it’s me. A darker side surfaced. He aimed sword strikes at chinks in armor and burned foes in magical flames. I watched in terror knowing that this was me. Why did I enjoy watching other humans bleed and their skin melt? I’m sick inside.
When backed into a corner humans fight. The stubborn foreign policies forced my men towards action. Our enemy followed a man who promised a return to their homeland while he chased another agenda for someone else’s policy. Neither side cared to fill in these discrepancies before raising their arms. We soaked the Earth in iron cold blood.
Most humans know they’ll escape war but I’m unlike them. I tried protecting a city by aligning it with my enemy no matter what the cost was. My friend, my soul, and my ideals have all been washed away by a dark tide. Beneath the depths I realize that I’ll never return to the light I once so cherished. In suspension the coming war cradles me within the darkness my soul once rejected. Will a light ever reach me here before the tendrils drag me further below?

darkness

Where the Mists Began

The Mists, what is it? I guess the material that makes up consciousness. It’s something constantly changing but represents the concept of self. The self is not a certainty. People find who they are through their experiences. A blank canvas represents the Mists and life’s experiences represent the colors of paint on a palette. What they paint; what they become doesn’t matter as long as they live.

I thought of the Mists because I’ve always questioned bloodshed over beliefs. Many times beliefs weren’t at fault but used by others with bigger agendas. But what of the ones who believed in what they did? It’d be very cruel if one set of beliefs held credibility while others didn’t. Without certainty I created the concept of the Mists to move people from a narrow mindedness. Will others follow? Probably not. The contingency of humanity doesn’t gain much from working together against those with bigger agendas. They’re better off believing everything they’ve been told because they’d lose a lot of their comforts. I can spout ideals all my life yet get nowhere with my dedication. Selfishness will undoubtedly lead humanity towards a pinnacle moment where survival and luxury collide.

At that point the Mists took on a new direction as the basis of a fictional story. During my leisure time throughout my high school day I fleshed out the tale. A tragic hero named Desnei conquered death only to find himself cleaning up the mess of a world teetering upon its destruction. His world mirrors the real world in some respects to humanity and how we too teeter upon our destruction. Through his efforts Desnei saved his world some time after sacrificing himself. Without going into too much detail he originally lived during a time where four major cities vied for supremacy despite on paper being united by a World Government.

Two of the cities openly assaulted each other causing many mass exoduses during their hostility. Desnei attempted fleeing with his fiance with a military caravan. They discovered the opposing regiment sent out genetically altered humans after the caravan. Either him or his fiance had to assist a few soldiers in distracting the enemy. Chivalrously Desnei accepted the task and promised he wouldn’t die there. The thing about promises is we sometimes can’t keep them because every step forward has a risk. A risk that we turn and run, we try and fail, or we win this bet. He died.

The Mists welcomed the young man’s consciousness as his body stopped functioning. A question he often struggled with in life displayed itself in a way he could easily relate to. Run away or face the truth? Many humans find themselves caught between these two routes. It’s easy living in one’s limited view of life but harder learning from the views of others. Although the choice decided during life might not be the best in death there’s another chance. Is one path right or wrong? Not entirely. People advance at their own pace. A closed-off view will be safer than exploring the unknown. Taking the step from safety towards uncertainty must be directed by the person living the life no matter how much time might be spent. Desnei stated a great response towards himself at this time:

“You have lived your life and died by a choice to help another live one more day. Will you live on believing everything is alright or face that you’re dead without her? It hurts, yeah it should. You’re upset for obvious reasons but a choice must be made. Look forward instead of behind.”

Ultimately he accepted the reality. The place he entered contained trillions of other consciousnesses existing. Some were good and some were bad. Others told him about the layout of the Mists, the rulers of certain isles, the Fog of Lethe, and so many remarkable things he never believed in. Desnei decided he’d set off towards the nearest ruler named Rintaen but discovered true unrest in the Mists. A large squirmish between men and men with wings erupted over trivial matters. After he made landfall one of the men with wings promptly tossed Desnei and his raft back into the Mists. Unsure what he messed up Desnei drifted between that isle and another until a mysterious man appeared. Kronos.

They talked about the Mists for a long time. Kronos explained that the isles share names with writings from multiple faiths. The two isles nearby deemed Heaven and Hell may have similarities with their religious equivalents but they aren’t the same. This Kronos convinced Desnei that he ferried separated lovers from these isles back together at a cost. Desnei asked him if love could bridge a way back to the real world. Kronos replied:

“Of course love can make that a desire but payment is the means by which I can reunite you with your loved one. I often gather small memories from those seeking love but you’d sacrifice much more. I can’t take all your memories or I’d release a monster into existence. What to do. . .oh wait, a deal that only the living could do. Us figments of the Mist don’t truly exist and because of that we can never enter where you came from. Let me use you for my bidding. I’ll smuggle you to a place where hope doesn’t exist so you can do what’s impossible there. Revive yourself.

If you can’t I’ll bring you back here. She’ll die eventually then you’ll both be reunited and I’ll take a few unnecessary memories. What do you have to lose? Desnei think about what could be done if you returned. You probably wonder others never returned but that’s because I didn’t exist back then. A certain difference in the combined consciousness conjured me. So, what would you do with your renewed life?”
“Cherish every second. I’ll do it.”

That single choice started Desnei down an entirely different route than if he waited. This is what the Rise of the First Blight teaches people. We’re all humans trying our best but sometimes we make foolish choices. Good or bad doesn’t matter because life can become very confusing with all the differing variables. The journey he began here will open a new way for many others, a new set of variables. As a story Rise of the First Blight can be described as daunting for it’s meant to be something that reminds humanity about who we are.

sa;bdry

Carrying A Small Candle In Somber

My moniker Desnei serves as an antithesis to disparity. I decided that I’d never accept myself standing apart from others and will cross the line when possible. I’m no traitor but a visionary who seeks the unity of all men. We all have a responsibility to our fellow men to stand together through tumultuous times. Such a movement crosses every boundary imagined, it’s something known as compassion.

Often I’ve forgotten what I keep struggling for. Where others see conflict I see an unfortunate consequence of despair. People have never been pawns in a game because they have real feelings. To teach others a different way has been a calling reverberating throughout my body. I know humanity will always hold a candle of hope as long as generous people try. The light will never die if I touch another heart with my simple compassion.

And this is why I write; to let the compassion spread like a wildfire across the Earth, stop the potential hatred that could fuel the sorrow conjuring a million tears, and to help those in need. It’s true I do write fantasy that can sometimes be dark but compassion remains fundamental. The dark stuff exists because compassion was lost leading a few astray. In reality some people face times where life can seem very dark and unforgiving but they can be saved from it. Just reach a hand out for every one who feels lost.

I imagined up a universe where the virtues of humanity are amplified. Emotions are the main foundation creating reality for my characters and they must face them. Slowly the characters realize their universe started from the sorrow a man faced and never could overcome. They must stand against his fallible nature to teach him what he never learned about life. Life might not be perfect but it’s beautiful.

One character finds himself working for assassins after a wealthy mayor steals the his family’s livelihood. He faces many tribulations on the road of his life after giving into his bitter feelings. The mayor knows he wronged many people but finds himself unable to stop because the wealth makes him feel important. When they meet again only one will be alive afterwards. This isn’t directly a story of compassion. This event of indifference marks when possessions possess a man. Why does that happen? The mayor never deeply understood human compassion when he was a child creating a void in his behavioral growth. He inevitably chased his greed to his own grave. Now a young man must face his inner turmoil while moving from a terrible past to an uncertain future.

Without looking too deep into the specifics their stories are easy to relate with. A good family facing rough times can often lead some members into making bad choices. Lack of love will lead some toward any unsavory sense of belonging through such as greed, lust, wrath, and so on. Sins can very accurately describe a person’s disposition when they have lost all sense of control. I believe the best way to counter that chaotic impulse is to show that there’s more than what has been seen. If only everyone could feel like they belong but in a world of nearly eight billion people some can feel isolated. Don’t let them if you can.

I understand this is a very lofty aim but I can believe in it. If the compassionate side of humanity shines brighter loneliness will be eradicated. Through kindness a dark fantasy universe can be saved. So why not this single planet? I truly think humans can do just that.

sa;bdry

A Wretched Tale: The Darkest Night

I grabbed the dual berettas and walked towards the beasts. They clawed at my face as I kicked them back. I crushed one of their necks with my foot. The dark blood oozed out from its mouth. More of those beasts raced towards me.

They pushed me down and gnashed at my flesh. The darkness in their making seeped into my veins. Memories from the souls obliterated by them clouded my thoughts. I screamed because I once knew those faces as friends.

My blood sloshed onto marble floor. The beasts carved to the bones in my limbs. They ignored the meat and reveled in my suffering. Oddly my thoughts weren’t on saving my life but the absurdities in this life.

Fear chained me from ever taking action. I never trusted anyone because they could hurt me. They weren’t these demons but they scared me to the core. What if I failed them? They’d abandon me without a second thought. All those frightened souls looking for a reason to stay.

We walked away from each other. When the demons arrived we ran from our friends in need. The concept of survival destroyed everything we created together with a single strike. I stubbornly accepted that as the only way but they needed me. What good is living if you’re alone?

I never meant for the love we shared to someday die. This tragedy stoked the dying fire left in our memories. I grabbed one of the demons and tossed it against a wall. My arms trembled from the pain but I used the berettas tearing a way through the pack.

They watched me and slowly advanced. Their warfare tactics pushed me into a corner where I propped me body up. I unloaded on their front line, propelled myself through the formation, chomped on one of their necks and drank the demon’s blood, and suddenly my vision went black. . .

My body banished my mind from control. I joked around with my thoughts during the whole entire time. I shunned myself for drinking tainted blood but knew I would’ve died if I didn’t. The selfish nature I succumbed to will bring its tolls until I’m dead from the weight I carry.

I forced my eyes open to see the horror. Dark blood healed my wounds, my hands grew claws, and I spoke in their tongue. The demons laid decapitated around me and their blood formed a design, a circle split into fourths. Unable to move myself I loosened my grip on my humanity.

Who are you? I am you. The blood holds the memories of others and the demon. When you drank it you accepted us. We are you now. What are you doing? You need to regain control and assume your human form. You’ll die if the demon blood takes over. And how does this fix that? Blood purifying. The afflicted blood makes the symbol, to the left humanity stands, demons haunt the right, and the accumulation of dreams leads the way. Essentially we’ll sacrifice a human, a demon, and a Mistkin for you to live. I DON’T WANT THAT!!! You don’t have a choice, live on for us who reside within. The demon’s chains shattered and our memories don’t want us to die again. Please.

Three near dying beings stood in the circle with me. My demon blood started flowing out of my eyes. The demon and human evaporated into spheres of light cleansing the dark blood. I dropped to my knees because of immense pain. I watched the Mistkin be drained of his blood to save me from blood loss. He absorbed the cleansed blood until the ritual finished. He changed into a being of pure light that spoke.

“Ah, you are the one. The true sinner who stays alive to defend the holy radiance. Born of humanity and bathed in evil. You’ve seen the light from the darkness. A knowledge forbidden because few man are worthy of the sacrifice. To always see the radiance but never reach it. And what is your name Lightbringer?”

“Shadow, a moniker because the real name has been lost.”