orpheus
A dream of seething nymphs, withered petals and wasted palaces. I was in there somehow, so was your wan, pale face and black, black locks. —yes, sing a song. Let me hear the music. Play it to the soul even if my heart will break into a thousand little pieces, crumbling beside the bloodied sands on the banks of the Cocytus. So I sleep here, in the void of your conscience, this infinite darkness where it once used to be the source of all light. And still I dreamt all the same. And a foolish dream, I've been told, it was. A withered flower cannot blossom twice; a fallen blind star's brilliance is lost to the silent ashes forever. To pray for the dead to rise up, to hope for the erasion of fate.... Was it a dream of immortality? A dream of love? A dream of sorrow? Even so.... Sweetest of the sweets, you know I cannot bring myself to say farewell.
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