wow I'm random.
Jun. 12th, 2007 12:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
darkdragonoftheneverWas sketching with charcoal (omg! Different medium!) and was thinking. I make up stories sometimes in my head, just little drabbles as I sketch, and this is what came out of my head as I was drawing...Yes, I'm odd and weird and begging for attention? What of it?
No matter what the sequence, what the phase, what time of day, this is the land where the moon rules all life. It's phases dictate those that fly in these ever darkened skies, barely ever coming out of their royal blue state. The sun never touches these lands, and it never will. This place, nestled between what the mortals believe is reality and fantasy, right on that border that allows the days and nights to pass without interruption. It is here, where I rule, where the lone tree stands, the definition of the border itself.
Carved in its proud trunk are two symbols, one black, and one white, connected with a line. Those are the phases of the moon in which I am concerned with. Those are the Time of Change for those that choose to dwell here. It is when the Light turns to Dark and the Dark turns to Light. I am here to make sure everything runs smoothly as it can. And to make sure no mortals or those on the other side pass by area of the border, but that rarely happens. After all, who wants to deal with one both blessed and cursed?
Gryphons, creatures of the Light, fly from the new moon to just when there is a sliver of black is left on the surface. It is then they change. They change into that of the winged serpent, the Dragon, and fly that form until there is just a sliver of light, and the change happens again. Constantly back and forth, repeating every cycle, never breaking.
For if it broke, then what would happen? The balance would be corrupted. The sun would enter the moon's sacred lands, and would once again rage war with the larger body. This is to keep the peace, to keep the moon silent in her travels and those that change with her at ease, and in balance. Not to be stuck in a half mutation as that is what happens the night of the full and new moons. These poor souls cannot fly, for their wings are too weak to handle their half-changed bodies.
And so I sit, at the base of the barrier, ever keeping an eye on the moon's children, watching their change for all eternity, stuck in between myself. Ever watching with cold dead eyes, and ever wondering if one day, all this will turn to ruin.
That is all. :D
Peace,
I did something productive! psycho
No matter what the sequence, what the phase, what time of day, this is the land where the moon rules all life. It's phases dictate those that fly in these ever darkened skies, barely ever coming out of their royal blue state. The sun never touches these lands, and it never will. This place, nestled between what the mortals believe is reality and fantasy, right on that border that allows the days and nights to pass without interruption. It is here, where I rule, where the lone tree stands, the definition of the border itself.
Carved in its proud trunk are two symbols, one black, and one white, connected with a line. Those are the phases of the moon in which I am concerned with. Those are the Time of Change for those that choose to dwell here. It is when the Light turns to Dark and the Dark turns to Light. I am here to make sure everything runs smoothly as it can. And to make sure no mortals or those on the other side pass by area of the border, but that rarely happens. After all, who wants to deal with one both blessed and cursed?
Gryphons, creatures of the Light, fly from the new moon to just when there is a sliver of black is left on the surface. It is then they change. They change into that of the winged serpent, the Dragon, and fly that form until there is just a sliver of light, and the change happens again. Constantly back and forth, repeating every cycle, never breaking.
For if it broke, then what would happen? The balance would be corrupted. The sun would enter the moon's sacred lands, and would once again rage war with the larger body. This is to keep the peace, to keep the moon silent in her travels and those that change with her at ease, and in balance. Not to be stuck in a half mutation as that is what happens the night of the full and new moons. These poor souls cannot fly, for their wings are too weak to handle their half-changed bodies.
And so I sit, at the base of the barrier, ever keeping an eye on the moon's children, watching their change for all eternity, stuck in between myself. Ever watching with cold dead eyes, and ever wondering if one day, all this will turn to ruin.
That is all. :D
Peace,
I did something productive! psycho
