Ode to Gerriel Endeth

by Tentacle

I am many things, dreamers have always been many things.

Light and gay, verdant and wild, cold and remorseless.

Cities at once have become devastated and subside, only to live again.

I surrounded myself in the raw potential of what could be. I formed an avatar.

I looked out and saw mountains and forests being claimed. I saw fortresses erected on the plains.

Can we escape our nature? Will we always begin to mistrust and prepare for war?

Safe within my avatar, I felt the winds of change begin to blow. My very soul cried out that a tempest is on the horizon.

Together will they embrace the agony? Will they writhe in eternal discomfort, cast adrift with minds gone feral?

Do not go where darkness fears to tread, children. The avatar is an imperfect thing. The avatar is only as strong as the spirit within.

If they catch you, close your eyes. Fix your spirit that it will be resolute.

Fear will not protect you as they will get you anyhow.

Steady yourself. Allow your will to burn bright. Strike out with the incandescence of spirit.

You will dream and grow and leave its traces. These things will be fed upon.

When all else fails you seal yourself with hope.

Your avatar is made of it.

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