Daedalus Quirei
Sep 27th, 2008, 02:16:55 AM
Lips pressed as hands yearning for salvation.
Mind burning numbness the very height of exhilaration; the beginning in every end.
Searching hands like lips caressing innocence, exposing every surface with tonguing accuracy.
Endless thralls climaxing at withdraw, another day has ended.
That end was the last thing, the very last moment he knew; the last moment he lived. Nothing had changed for him since then, trapped in that last memory. There were others of course, but he could no longer think. Daedalus was not only frozen to time, but to all that came with it. Wars had been fought the once vibrant planet he was imprisoned on had died and been concurred many times over. Dead now in the same way he was, a host to a greater cause, a stronger adversary; a passing reign. Just as those who meant to control this planet, even the few who survived it, he simply remained.
He had learned nothing from his exile, worst he hadn't even experienced it. All Daedalus had done from the moment he was caged was live that last memory. If he could recall he'd wonder how long it had been and what it had felt like. For now however his life was a waning though, a forgotten moment and far less than a blink in the celestial eye.
In this moment, the only reality possible is little more than a waking dream. Any tangible sentiment of realism is met with nothing more than surreal thoughts and escape. Intoxicating, truly perfectly lethal, pacing your heart to its very last surge. flowing streams of stolen moments
embraced by side long glances. Piercing divination in the reflection of your ravenous eyes. Powerful, pressing-that eternity in one solitary stain.
Mind burning numbness the very height of exhilaration; the beginning in every end.
Searching hands like lips caressing innocence, exposing every surface with tonguing accuracy.
Endless thralls climaxing at withdraw, another day has ended.
That end was the last thing, the very last moment he knew; the last moment he lived. Nothing had changed for him since then, trapped in that last memory. There were others of course, but he could no longer think. Daedalus was not only frozen to time, but to all that came with it. Wars had been fought the once vibrant planet he was imprisoned on had died and been concurred many times over. Dead now in the same way he was, a host to a greater cause, a stronger adversary; a passing reign. Just as those who meant to control this planet, even the few who survived it, he simply remained.
He had learned nothing from his exile, worst he hadn't even experienced it. All Daedalus had done from the moment he was caged was live that last memory. If he could recall he'd wonder how long it had been and what it had felt like. For now however his life was a waning though, a forgotten moment and far less than a blink in the celestial eye.
In this moment, the only reality possible is little more than a waking dream. Any tangible sentiment of realism is met with nothing more than surreal thoughts and escape. Intoxicating, truly perfectly lethal, pacing your heart to its very last surge. flowing streams of stolen moments
embraced by side long glances. Piercing divination in the reflection of your ravenous eyes. Powerful, pressing-that eternity in one solitary stain.