Opposites Directing
A long time ago on a the served plains had find myself with an effort no more valuable then wanting to be with my self, every Sith knew that it's work was not found in a master but in ones own, alone. The precious minerals out this planet, I knew them well and would kneel down taking a rock and with savaging eyes throw it against a bigger one, it would crack in two, it always did, never in peaces, then leaning down towards the soil where it landed could see the quartz inside them, anger, frustration, the perpetual predator inside my blood finding the scattering of forces before a conclusive battle.
Compromised by traitors and saboteurs, had watch the purple crystals inside the rock touching the outer light for the first time as the sensation of my palm cupped with an aggressive beauty of its own, the impulse that covered, the hand that broke its shielding mystery out the impeding trial. There where thousands of them rocks around, with a single point of a meditative mind had let my palm open my fingers letting them tips thrilled emancipating the darkened force of death, murder, kill, the rock floated into a new dimension, from the 3rd dimension of opposites directly onto the 5th, and there was plenty more yet, for the lowest cast to crack their minds into the new ability of facing the fatal mastery of the death and let go.
It's shimmery rock, revolved around, my hand pulled back and forcefully impulsed its levitation further crossing over an other realm, I wished to faint down illuminating water on a pond, rippling waves as it fades down to never be seeing again, for its treasures are great for those who dig in the naked skin, vulnerable, fragile, so important to the laws of resurrection. how could you rebirth without touching death, before jumping onto the unknown. So greedy the cowards who play nice, I will have your misery shouting in my hand obviously tighten for the physical pleasure of your lower self wanting to skip the venture. I will find your suffering between the lines of your lies.
There was no Queen of the Void, perhaps an other clone of those who intents to make an other step through the masses of darkness, oblivious to the realities of the worlds could focus beyond deception, into the lands of chaos, random misty winds on the earthly pleasures of this natures caressed deeply the unexpected opportunity of ones mastering self.
SCAR Sergeant mention to fear my powers to the Empire and to over power, of course if Vader was an other apprentice and Palatine would never share his immortal secrets to me or Vader, I had to find them my own, questioning no one. It was then that the Mara Jade of me left The Empire and even her Husband into the obscurity, the unseen.
Those less fortunate who could not use the divine rage in the acts of the air would hide their names with a punctuating sorrow, with the inability to come on rights, the true would push their darkest pit, as much the Jedi would force to be perfectly bright and humbly wise to learn, there was a pessimistic vengeance pulling them towards the war of the Sith, they need it this path of clashes, more then boring till death admirers.
I was a woman, a fatal fem, one with clarity enough to see your weakness unable to raise a power you don't have, the forging path of my legs among this field created a braking through unwisely wrath for the Jedis mind and the sound of the elements had crashed out my voluptuous lips with an energetic black magic, mentioned ancient words unequivocally attracting to me all the failures under my wings. The cape could carry the mystic, vent out by the walk its enchanting winds. On the last hour, and the last dance as the last day of your life had travelled through the times for you to come, betrayer of all, wanting power from all. Hear my hurtful words of truth, pretender of the light.
I was happier to be myself as a fountain of dreams who turned into reality, could understand every dynamic, yet unseen, he hated my power, I could transfer a vision of the expandable Universe, I was the untold Story who would never fit the screen. Closely grasped the hood down letting it reveal the reddish hairs that once had bloomed into fire, repeat my words not.
On the path had find an adult boy a young man sleeping on the ground, his arduous blue eyes woken by my pass, he was covered by blankets perhaps he had been there many days in a state of catatonic space, it was tranquil to protect from the traumas, his golden curls who stood up as a crazy genius rouse me to stop brightening into his madness. His muscles shocked wanting company and at the same time its pale skin contracted separating any reality. My observing qualities drove me into admiration, lost in a world of no return, inclined myself into my knees touching the ground, piercing my nails above his aura while holding the blankets up, he murmured without sounds, could hear well.
He was waiting for his death and surprisingly felt my body curling next, under the rug of its cloth and this sky, had walk inside his cocoon cuddling slowly, breathing the absence of his living hood into something higher, renouncement. He wasn't afraid, he lost it all by will, no commodities, on his own, alone, so ready for the darkish side of the force. Had caress his torso, his pulsations rapidly started to come down at home, my caring home as opposite walls sheltering the outer orbits of the communal psyche, his past experience didn't mind to be taken. So sweet and pure as morphine.
Could barely hear by it's covered unconscious trigger, a trigger that would backfire so easily till the reach of finding him here. "What is the strongest vengeance in which you would hurt me?" There was fear in him, the trembling of an inner laugh showed as a pervert does finding no answers to this present.
|
