《Poems for No One》12 - Whisper
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Did you ask to be born with wings?
In search of pussies to appease
As long as you drink from my cup
In your bed my tears be released
.
May your name always be Whisper
In a period when cherries bloom
Float like clouds disguised as vampires
'Til the blood rain expires at noon
Author's Note: This poem is about Whisper - the sanitary napkin brand that I use hehe
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Within the pages of folklore and fantasy, tales of people who chase after the dream of eternity, of living forever, rarely find a happy ending. They are either struck by the grim truth of reality, give up, and return to mortality or face a ghastly realization of their wishes. The latter often the worse fate, as they come to realize, only far too late, that what they sacrificed was worth far more than the time they gained. Ultimately, the common thread in these stories is that “immortality is as much a curse as it is a blessing”. People either realize it early and give up or are doomed to inevitably face its consequences. In the world Enrich lives in, that saying does hold merit. Every pathway towards eternal life has shackles of its own. They bring those high above down to the ground, evening the playing field. It is thanks to these fundamental laws that ambitious mortals are able to defy the heavens and achieve immortality themselves. The variety of methods result in each of these bindings varying in intensity and degree of freedom. Enrich’s path doesn't break this trend. Though, after what he did to himself, most wouldn’t even consider him a living thing anymore. On the day of his ascension, a world’s worth of souls were melted and recast. On that day, the human’s path had reached its conclusion, recast into Apollyon. An artifact, a weapon, is eternal, after all. As for the curse? The payment will be made, as it must. So why not offload the curse to someone else? Mortals throw their lives away for all manner of petty reasons, noble or otherwise, especially in desperation. Eventually, someone will be willing to foot the bill. Most will if given the chance. The bait is far too tempting, after all. Power, status, knowledge. All at their fingertips. If only they say “yes”. And Apollyon is very willing to help any lost souls. If they give up everything in return, of course.
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People die everyday without anyone noticing it. It takes people time to recover from the event. Some follow the victims path, some take vengeance. But, the one responsible for this are Reapers. When people die they only see someone weilding a scythe and before they could see who they are, they died. But one reaper is different. David Maxwell died when he was stabbed in the heart. He thought he would die, but before he can he was offered a chance to become a reaper by the person who killed him. He thought it was somekind of joke and accept since he was gonna die. He then woke up in an unknown room with the person who killed him next to him. Note: I made a few adjustments to the Genres, since i thought deeply about my fiction. Anyways this is just something i do for fun and somewhat of a hobby to me. With those thoughts in mind i hope you like my fiction.
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The description is in the title :) If you have any suggestions on chapters make sure to let me know!
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