blausfaur

Blue waves: My lullaby, Rock me gently, Lest I drown in your embrace. Knowledge approaches all, but only those who pay attention acquire wisdom. This latest siege brought to us an abundance of knowledge in the form of ancient artifacts once known as "books." I have yet to understand the purpose of these artifacts. Some of these books contain fantastic stories that contradict our understanding of the human's history; other books contain what seem to be guides for various hobbies; more still highlight human emotion in the forms of love, sadness, ecstasy, and rage. Then there are books breaming with groups of words in unusual format. By the t

I light a candle in prayer, While momma kneels before the altar. Isabel dances in the back, Her little hands clinging to papa. Isabel is too young to understand, Why for the dead candles we light. Papa is too old to understand, Why when he hits Isabel she cries. I tell papa it is his turn, And I hand him the little wooden stick. And I go to comfort my little sister, Telling her to the bathroom we'll take it. "Papa's not mad at you, Isa," I say while she uses the toilet. Isabel rubs her red eyes and nods. She tells me she's not upset. "Why is momma crying?" she asks. "Did papa hit momma, too?" I quietly contemplate the questi

They began on the beach, and a fire was raging upon the waters.  A fire on one side of the world and one around the other.  The earth had been unbruised, like an apple on a string, and then two stones had struck within a month, and everything had burned, slagged by deep space arrows. The wind was terrible.  Everywhere was a howl with no direction. * There were a few lichen-like communities in damp places, where the sky had steamed by but seared little, lifted ravines and streams from the land, unwrinkled it, dragon braille revealed only in fire.  There were a few who had been underground, and a few in the inland seas and lakes, a few in the