abysl

Tell me Icarus, What's it like to fall? To feel the air embrace you in it’s deadliest of calls? Tell me Icarus, What's it like to burn? Your future nothing more than ashes squandered to an urn? A question hangs here at the crossroads of fate, Both sit upon you, wings abate. Before you now, two paths divide. Both you have wandered, Learned that each is filled with lies. One that shines in the warmth of the sun. Where faith flows, and doubts are none. One that glimmers in the glow of the moon. Where howls echo, knowing wolves shall come soon. It's odd, you find yourself thinking. Why pledge allegiance to such fragile things? It's fascinating, you begin to ponder. Why do so knowing just what it brings? Kisses of chitin flutter your fur. Impatiently they wait, whilst you defer. Their desperate wails claw at your mind, They clash. They clang. They echo. They grind. Choose! They call. Choose! They cry. Parasites, the both of them.