Songs of a Lover
I've always wanted to know my set place in the stars, to know my destiny. Who would've guessed it was actually a place in the stars, nestled among thousands of forgotten gods. I spin, though I know I'm standing still, and the world spins with me. Orion's belt and the glowing eyes of Leo blaze into my own eyes, along with countless other glittering diamonds. But they aren't diamonds, they're my dreams, thousands among millions of lost and broken dreams that won't ever see the light of day. These are the dreams I whispered to Cloud as we lay tangled in the warm darkness, his skin nearly black against my own. The dreams, of noble father, loving mother, a normal childhood and sane adulthood, they are no more than blistering balls of gas, just as beautiful, just as unattainable.
What will they say when I'm gone? Will I be admired as a hero, condemned as a villain? Will they sing of me as a martyr of mankind, or will I become a curse to put on enemies? Will my lover-cum-killer adore me as he once did, will he cry when I die, will he decorate my grave with flowers to wilt? Or with her scorn me, laugh at my death, spit on my grave? And these stars, these awful and perfect, wonderfully broken, lost and confused stars, will they accept me into their ranks, embrace me as the mother I once cried for? Will I become just one more lost dream to be whispered about in the dark, horrifyingly beautiful, aloofly unattainable? What will they tell me to do, they've commanded me for so long. Will I be accepted as an equal, or will I be Hercules, once a hero, and now a slave?
I've always wanted to know my set place in the stars. And as they spin and dance, laugh and play, I hear them whisper, inviting me into their ranks.
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