Epilogue: It was a ngày like any other, the sun was shining making the mountains turn magenta like dưa hấu and the breeze played with my hair flipping raven black strands into my eyes and obscuring my vision. I smiled, comforted bởi the averageness of the morning. I had never really known “average” I thought. My father was a Lord of Phim and my mother was his Lady. Every morning I woke up earlier than the peasants and snuck out to the field to watch the sun rise like “normal” people do. My cream-colored skin enjoyed the warm sunlight just as much as I did. Being a little lady meant that the out doors was not a privilege freely given. I had the potential to be darker but that would mean I was outside often, and that meant I had done lots of manual labor. And that was VERY unbecoming. There were many things forbidden to me. I was born of privilege, but privilege was bred. To me Phim is the most wonderful nation in the Realm. The people work hard over the rolling hills colored sage, and we are not a poor nor wealthy nation, just perfect. I thought it was very wise of the Old Ones to name this place Phim. For Phim means perfection in the Mất tích language. I was brought back to reality when I felt the rain. I greeted the rain with a smile, for he is my friend.
“Hello rain.” I said.
“Hello Ilia.” The rain spirit đã đưa ý kiến back. His voice was steady like a drum. Never changing, always the same. I felt the rain’s emotions though. On good days the rain would be warm and soft, but on bad days the rain would be icy and sting. I had known the rain spirit a very long time.
“Rain,” I said. “Why is it only I fifteen summers old can see and feel you, but those older than I are blind to your presence?” The rain drops quickened, but soon steadied.
“I have told bạn but a thousand times.” I could tell he was irritated, I have asked this câu hỏi every morning since I first felt the rain. I ask because I like to hear that I am special, and that I tình yêu the rain for who he is and not for the blessings he bears. He continued for he knew me well. I would not return to the manor before my câu hỏi was answered. “Ilia,” he sighed, raindrops quickening with anticipation, “I chose only your friendship above all others for bạn loved me for the spirit that I am, not what I provide for the people of this Realm.”
I growled beneath my breath, mumbling unintelligibly that he gave me the common answer. Only two other sacred times had I heard the real truth behind the bond that lay between us. Once when I turned 7 and was excellent at coaxing các câu trả lời out of the rain, and the other when I turned 10. I could remember that ngày like any other, and with my 15th birthday approaching, and the identity of my unknown suitor, I was self-assured that I would relive the truth again. Though the rain was patient and did not believe in my haste. I could feel the rain pulsing through my body like we were one. His steady, heartbeat, calming my own racing one; I loved the feeling of the raindrops pounding against my skin steady like a drum. Bum, bum, bum. Hardly ever changing, 1, 2, 3, 4. 1, 2, 3 ,4. I could hear the rhythm drumming in my ears, tying me closer and closer to the spirit of blessing. Ilias.
This is only the Epilouge, but I will post thêm if people request! Actually, that's a lie, I will anyways cuz nghề viết văn is what I tình yêu to do! "P Anywho! Enjoi! "D
~Kay
“Hello rain.” I said.
“Hello Ilia.” The rain spirit đã đưa ý kiến back. His voice was steady like a drum. Never changing, always the same. I felt the rain’s emotions though. On good days the rain would be warm and soft, but on bad days the rain would be icy and sting. I had known the rain spirit a very long time.
“Rain,” I said. “Why is it only I fifteen summers old can see and feel you, but those older than I are blind to your presence?” The rain drops quickened, but soon steadied.
“I have told bạn but a thousand times.” I could tell he was irritated, I have asked this câu hỏi every morning since I first felt the rain. I ask because I like to hear that I am special, and that I tình yêu the rain for who he is and not for the blessings he bears. He continued for he knew me well. I would not return to the manor before my câu hỏi was answered. “Ilia,” he sighed, raindrops quickening with anticipation, “I chose only your friendship above all others for bạn loved me for the spirit that I am, not what I provide for the people of this Realm.”
I growled beneath my breath, mumbling unintelligibly that he gave me the common answer. Only two other sacred times had I heard the real truth behind the bond that lay between us. Once when I turned 7 and was excellent at coaxing các câu trả lời out of the rain, and the other when I turned 10. I could remember that ngày like any other, and with my 15th birthday approaching, and the identity of my unknown suitor, I was self-assured that I would relive the truth again. Though the rain was patient and did not believe in my haste. I could feel the rain pulsing through my body like we were one. His steady, heartbeat, calming my own racing one; I loved the feeling of the raindrops pounding against my skin steady like a drum. Bum, bum, bum. Hardly ever changing, 1, 2, 3, 4. 1, 2, 3 ,4. I could hear the rhythm drumming in my ears, tying me closer and closer to the spirit of blessing. Ilias.
This is only the Epilouge, but I will post thêm if people request! Actually, that's a lie, I will anyways cuz nghề viết văn is what I tình yêu to do! "P Anywho! Enjoi! "D
~Kay
This is a peom I wrote for a competition at my school. Tell me what bạn think of it, please?
__________________________________________________
Have bạn felt the torture of hate?
Like a poisonous cloud, it will wait,
Until bạn burn in the flames of fury.
Then it will creep up and incapacitate.
Alas! bạn will choke, and don’t try to deny your anger.
It is too late.
Hate is like grasping a red hot coal,
Intent on throwing it at another soul,
Instead it is you, yourself, who burns,
Then your own anger shall take its toll,
You’ll bring about your every mistake and failure.
You’ll be alone.
__________________________________________________
Have bạn felt the torture of hate?
Like a poisonous cloud, it will wait,
Until bạn burn in the flames of fury.
Then it will creep up and incapacitate.
Alas! bạn will choke, and don’t try to deny your anger.
It is too late.
Hate is like grasping a red hot coal,
Intent on throwing it at another soul,
Instead it is you, yourself, who burns,
Then your own anger shall take its toll,
You’ll bring about your every mistake and failure.
You’ll be alone.