member+poetry,+wrath+of+the+desert

Wrath of the Desert
(By Sam)(ael)

Left in the desert to die. Alone in the parched lands to be consumed by heat and sun. Do you not still cry wet tears? And do your fellow sufferers, the ants and eagles not join you for moisture's sake?

You see death brings forth life. Sorrow eventually quenches. Pain... pain is something relative. It never settles upon one thing, but gives and takes, and tricks and trades with seeming little care.

You could say pain is life. A life without surprise and risk is rarely considered valuable by those who have it. Pain introduces something to lose. The key to emotion, all things in one word. Mortal weakness is why we thrive.

You could say the Gods in fact mimic us. In their eternal childish afairs and intrigues they seek to live on the thrill. What is a thrill with no danger and loss hovering beside? Something else surely.

The Gods know nothing of loss or fear in their immortal perfection, for which perfection I pity them.

How can you know love without loss? Though I suffer each day as though blood is drawn from my heart wounded, Mine is a heart that knows true value. In the depths of pain are the days I long for without fail, And faith their sun and rain. This the reality which Gods are denied and fearful men with them, Chasing fancy and her friends, both bliss and damnation.