Salemn Lysce
May 22nd, 2002, 10:12:49 PM
<center>In Flander's Field the poppies blow
between the crosses, row on row
that mark our place and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing,
fly scarce heard amid the guns below
We are the Dead, short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow
Loved, and were loved,
and now we lay down in Flander's Field
Take up our quarrel with the foe!
To you from falling hands we throw
The torch, be yours to hold up high
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
in Flander's Field.</center>
Salemn sat on her bed, staring bleakly into space. Her swollen, red eyes left her vision very poor as her tear-stained cheeks stung. Hands clasped in lap, the girl's brown hair hung limply in her face ... but maybe perhaps the most disturbing thing about her were the clothes. She had unpacked the clothes she had worn when she was a slave - before Keto was killed. Having put them on, Salemn felt that this was the level she was worthy of. The first thing she seemed to notice after several hours were the walls .. Or were they walls ? They kept moving and blurried in sight. She felt that if she reached out she could catch one.
Then she saw the blood.
It streamed down the whites walls in red ribbons, criss-crossing and forming at puddles down at the ground. Horrified, the child jumped off of her bed and ran into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Letting out a small sigh of relief, she turned on the faucet and let the water run. The sound relaxed her, and after awhile she turned it off. It wasn't so bad, living in the Jedi Order. Opening the door, she walked back out into her bedroom and crawled inside of her bed, shivering underneath the covers. A part of her didn't want to sleep, but she was so tired that she finally succumbed to its powers. Closing her heavy eyelids, her breathing slowed as she began to dream.
between the crosses, row on row
that mark our place and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing,
fly scarce heard amid the guns below
We are the Dead, short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow
Loved, and were loved,
and now we lay down in Flander's Field
Take up our quarrel with the foe!
To you from falling hands we throw
The torch, be yours to hold up high
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
in Flander's Field.</center>
Salemn sat on her bed, staring bleakly into space. Her swollen, red eyes left her vision very poor as her tear-stained cheeks stung. Hands clasped in lap, the girl's brown hair hung limply in her face ... but maybe perhaps the most disturbing thing about her were the clothes. She had unpacked the clothes she had worn when she was a slave - before Keto was killed. Having put them on, Salemn felt that this was the level she was worthy of. The first thing she seemed to notice after several hours were the walls .. Or were they walls ? They kept moving and blurried in sight. She felt that if she reached out she could catch one.
Then she saw the blood.
It streamed down the whites walls in red ribbons, criss-crossing and forming at puddles down at the ground. Horrified, the child jumped off of her bed and ran into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Letting out a small sigh of relief, she turned on the faucet and let the water run. The sound relaxed her, and after awhile she turned it off. It wasn't so bad, living in the Jedi Order. Opening the door, she walked back out into her bedroom and crawled inside of her bed, shivering underneath the covers. A part of her didn't want to sleep, but she was so tired that she finally succumbed to its powers. Closing her heavy eyelids, her breathing slowed as she began to dream.