Confusing Stuff I Wrote In My Journal

Wisdom twists and turns around the bend of fate that we create. With our books, our songs, our speeches, the world we envision is made.

In every shadow rests a word. A word springing from danger, fear, superstition. Why do we fear the dark? Because our worst words wait there. Each one of us in powerless to stop them. They can only be erased by thousands of words from thousands of mouths.

Even then all may be lost. For they have been forgotten before only to creep back into the thoughts of a few and spread like a plague.

Often the light sharpens the shadows that they may pierce all the deeper. For it too is made from words. Often it is believed that the words come from the light. But if that were so, we would not have so many shadows. Unless all shadows and all lights were the same.

The World

The world.

It resides in winter. A winter of fire.

Hot and bright. Cold and dark. Everywhere and nowhere.

Silence prevails above the infinite noise. The terrible silence of apathy. It hides at the edges of speech. And behind the eyes.

Eyes and ears are closed.None will ever know and see but a few. The few cannot overcome except the world realizes. And the world is them. They are the world.

Shadows (story)

Lahden offered his arm to Rynn and she took it, trying not to think about how contact with him made her skin tingle. He led her to a secluded corner backstage and checked to make certain that none of the other students had followed them. Rynn couldn't tell. The only light was that which leaked back from the stage, and she could barely see. Lahden didn't seem bothered by the darkness, but perhaps that was because his father belonged to the Arcane Order of Shadows. He was probably used to the dark.

(Read all previous parts of chapter two here: http://propheciesofshadow.blogspot.com/p/blog-page.html)