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<blockquote data-quote="Bhryn Astairre" data-source="post: 2562309"><p><strong>To God; Love Bhryn.</strong></p><p></p><p>My letter would be made without verse:</p><p>Aching poetry would make it worse</p><p>And seal the formula that I had made</p><p>Just as you had twisted my fate.</p><p>Since the moment I came into this life</p><p>You filled up my days with endless strife;</p><p>Was it amusement or idle pleasure you took</p><p>In breaking my heart and burning the book?</p><p>My brother to whom I mirrored in soul</p><p>Is now just broken, no longer whole.</p><p>I watched him grow distant in your sick plan</p><p>Sheltered and loved, by distant hands;</p><p>Hands that pushed me out into the rain</p><p>And told me not to come looking again.</p><p>It wasn't enough that my mind was a jigsaw:</p><p>My mother and father you stole just before</p><p>The title was passed from mother to child</p><p>Scattered my dreams, turned me out wild.</p><p>In silent slumber they rest in your grace</p><p>Leaving the second hollow and empty space</p><p>In the tapestry of pain that you called 'design',</p><p>But without a fate, for me, would be fine.</p><p>Soon came the sword of blackest fire</p><p>To shake my foundations with unholy ire:</p><p>To burn the edges of what I have become</p><p>To mould me again with the passion of suns.</p><p>It taught me in time to be one with myself</p><p>To challenge the thinking of those on the shelf</p><p>Who pull all the strings of puppets below;</p><p>Dance them to tunes that musically flow.</p><p>Imparted with knowledge I soldiered on,</p><p>Even when love had twice been and gone.</p><p>Was it not enough that you took all I made</p><p>And called it their service for dues all paid?</p><p>Now my daughter, fair in sunshine clad</p><p>Was the next on your vilest list to be had.</p><p>So you wrapped her in madness and went along</p><p>With all of the magic destroying her song</p><p>And there in the moment when we stood by</p><p>Face to face, and eye to eye.</p><p>You knew it was was you called 'fate'</p><p>As my sword from my daughter, life deflate.</p><p>She crumpled, I crumpled, it was a lie:</p><p>My life ruled by everything that you could deny!</p><p>And -still- you demanded that I get on my feet</p><p>To be the first and to be the elite.</p><p>The Paragon title seems hollow and spare</p><p>Now your final cruelty comes to bear:</p><p>A love that returned you took from my eyes</p><p>And cast him free across wintery skies.</p><p>Was it not enough that I suffered so much?</p><p>Was love a burden and therefore as such</p><p>You denied me the chance to live it again?</p><p>Oh from my eyes, there is bitter rain.</p><p>On the mountain of angels in choral song,</p><p>Under the eyes of the deities, watching so long;</p><p>Are you who wrap yourself in sweet harmony</p><p>The cruelest god that could ever be?</p><p>My life was a torment and lies as a mess</p><p>That I cling to a spar in a wild sea, just for rest.</p><p>Every day I wake and do what you demand</p><p>With armour on body and sword in hand.</p><p>I'll fight any demon and slay any devil</p><p>But tell me how this is worse than the evil</p><p>Of taking my love and breaking my heart?</p><p>And so it is in this moment of dark</p><p>That I write you this letter to simply say</p><p>That do not be surprised if someday:</p><p>Your Paragon snaps and comes to find you, oh lord,</p><p>Clutched in my left the blackest sword</p><p>That you fear beyond all reasonable doubt</p><p>And there with righteous fury gathered about:</p><p>I would strike from your body the sin you keep</p><p>And finally let all the demons in my head, sleep.</p><p>But for now I cannot begin to understand</p><p>Why you torture me so, am I not the hand</p><p>That you made to keep this realm safe?</p><p>Ah the title yet does chafe.</p><p>Two hundred years and more I serve til I die</p><p>And then will you yet, let me to lie?</p><p>I hope you consider all of your sin:</p><p></p><p>To God; Love Bhryn.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Bhryn Astairre, post: 2562309"] [b]To God; Love Bhryn.[/b] My letter would be made without verse: Aching poetry would make it worse And seal the formula that I had made Just as you had twisted my fate. Since the moment I came into this life You filled up my days with endless strife; Was it amusement or idle pleasure you took In breaking my heart and burning the book? My brother to whom I mirrored in soul Is now just broken, no longer whole. I watched him grow distant in your sick plan Sheltered and loved, by distant hands; Hands that pushed me out into the rain And told me not to come looking again. It wasn't enough that my mind was a jigsaw: My mother and father you stole just before The title was passed from mother to child Scattered my dreams, turned me out wild. In silent slumber they rest in your grace Leaving the second hollow and empty space In the tapestry of pain that you called 'design', But without a fate, for me, would be fine. Soon came the sword of blackest fire To shake my foundations with unholy ire: To burn the edges of what I have become To mould me again with the passion of suns. It taught me in time to be one with myself To challenge the thinking of those on the shelf Who pull all the strings of puppets below; Dance them to tunes that musically flow. Imparted with knowledge I soldiered on, Even when love had twice been and gone. Was it not enough that you took all I made And called it their service for dues all paid? Now my daughter, fair in sunshine clad Was the next on your vilest list to be had. So you wrapped her in madness and went along With all of the magic destroying her song And there in the moment when we stood by Face to face, and eye to eye. You knew it was was you called 'fate' As my sword from my daughter, life deflate. She crumpled, I crumpled, it was a lie: My life ruled by everything that you could deny! And -still- you demanded that I get on my feet To be the first and to be the elite. The Paragon title seems hollow and spare Now your final cruelty comes to bear: A love that returned you took from my eyes And cast him free across wintery skies. Was it not enough that I suffered so much? Was love a burden and therefore as such You denied me the chance to live it again? Oh from my eyes, there is bitter rain. On the mountain of angels in choral song, Under the eyes of the deities, watching so long; Are you who wrap yourself in sweet harmony The cruelest god that could ever be? My life was a torment and lies as a mess That I cling to a spar in a wild sea, just for rest. Every day I wake and do what you demand With armour on body and sword in hand. I'll fight any demon and slay any devil But tell me how this is worse than the evil Of taking my love and breaking my heart? And so it is in this moment of dark That I write you this letter to simply say That do not be surprised if someday: Your Paragon snaps and comes to find you, oh lord, Clutched in my left the blackest sword That you fear beyond all reasonable doubt And there with righteous fury gathered about: I would strike from your body the sin you keep And finally let all the demons in my head, sleep. But for now I cannot begin to understand Why you torture me so, am I not the hand That you made to keep this realm safe? Ah the title yet does chafe. Two hundred years and more I serve til I die And then will you yet, let me to lie? I hope you consider all of your sin: To God; Love Bhryn. [/QUOTE]
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