[I first published and wrote this for a contest here on Penana]
Song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V2OUEi00nNU
[ Read a little slowly :) ]
She was on his mind again, like a ghost. She had been a portrait that drew him into exile, into the heavens of light and then down into the teeming red glow of fire and death. Death so uninhabited that the mind became it's own author of consumption. Thoughts turned vivid and painted themselves purple, reality flickered to a sleeping flame of smoke.
He gathered there in the dark spaces, waiting for a glimpse of her eyes, hands, voice. His mind had rotten away to a killer, but his heart melted back into a boy who still sought the chill that her sweet laugh sent down his spine.
She lived on the winds, she was the voice of the sun, the essence of the isles. There had been many a time when they would dance with the breeze around them, a jubilant sun warming their skin. Those days of their youth when they refused to be caged and tied to centuries of tradition and expectations. But those days were gone now. He had caught himself in a world below the surface. A world where the moon cast the light by which to see, where star kissed skin glowed with luster and orange injected eyes burned with tears of gold ash.
The others sang songs of paths lost to oceans, of music faded by pledges, but he sang his own song, one about a girl he loved that succumbed to the call of the ridges.
She had been blowing kisses to the sky, sending words of good fortune when she fell. Down to a Summer of warm blood and sea salt. He fell after her but was met with her last breath and a sad smile. She ebbed away to the atmosphere and he was pulled down into the deep crevices underneath her being. He wanted nothing more than to chase her, become one with her, but she had passed through the veil into a legend, a tale of a woman who blessed children who spread a kind word and who protected those who came too close to unknown things. Those images tormented his heart but kept it beating with the hope of finding her in the After.
She was his spirit girl, his home bound by the memories of the trees and now traveling on a spire of natures web.
He was a lost boy.
Lost to a girl, driven by a dream.
Oh, Gaven! The villagers would sing. A Lost Boy was he!
ns 15.158.61.51da2
