by Ann Neilson

How beautiful.

The Miskatonic Drinker

I fell asleep watching the sideway edge of the sunset turn from fire to rust, then to the soft velvet of twilight. When I awoke, precious Luna spoke to me, Her face a serene smile on a silent battlefield of chaos. And staring silently back at Her, I felt more inconsequential and alone than ever before. And yet, I felt also as a God over it all, closer to my Goddess than ever before.

Someday I will ascend to Her side, but for now must to content to stand in awe, and betwixt Her kind appearances, to toil under the harsh glare of Celia and her embers, to sleep the lonely times away, the memory of the Great Black Wolf Belladonna howling in the distance.

And so I sleep, and thus I dream, and all I see now are the scattered petals of a life long gone, much loved, yet…

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