Sometimes a storm will come, without warning. A roiling tempest upon the seas of our minds and our hearts. Sometimes the only thing we can do to weather such fury is wait and be willing to adapt to each moment. To find nuance and balance even in the terrifying ebb and flow. Sometimes the skies open and the heavens speak. For both mortals and angels. And we are roused from sleep by the distant call of gathering chaos. We must always remember the lost. Those who fought so that our lives might be a little brighter. Our brave ones. Our glorious dead. There are so many slain in these wars of imagination. These wars for the stars themselves. We shall honour their memory. And sometimes, if we can, we will steal their place among those halls of the fallen and the dead. We will send them away to escape the horrors, in hope that they will live better lives. Free from madness and suffering; a third eye sealed with a kiss. Hear me, dark ones. Callous Ones. Your time is short. Believe me, I should know. You don't get to harm the people I cherish. Not without a fight. If you want to get to them you’ll have to come through me, and I still don't think you realise what that means. Who I am, and what I stand for. This so much bigger than sorcery. This is destiny. Love is true, and against this stuff as dreams are made on no wraith shall prosper.
The Rounding Sleep from Raj Sisodia on Vimeo.
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