Esse acta sanctorum
Aequam memento rebus in arduis servare mentem
A fortiori
Its been a difficult week, so many ups and so many lows...
Been writing quite a bit however, mostly working on the sequel, which is coming along splendidly...
I believe that the conversations between Pennington and Sawyer, his love, are the most poignant, He is direct in his intent while she is evasive and considerably emotional.
Ansten on the other hand exposes the most emotion that he has to date, when he holds the belief that he could've lost Sawyer due to her more than reckless behavior.
For the first time, though immortal, he feels the tenderness, the frailty of their lives together slipping through his hands.
He unabashedly allows her access to the deepest part of his soul.
For this, Sawyer realizes his unconditional, passionate love.
Because her former mortal life was utterly void and empty of this reassurence (of lifes well), she finds the solice needed to propell her in her current circumstances.
Also wrote some of the prefaces to the chapters, as I am prone to do.
I often do this to express their emotional state...
I think that it brings the reader into their hearts and minds...
Here is an excerpt of one such notation:
Be there when I stumble
when I fall
I'm hurt badly by ommision
What is not being spoken...
Such a brutal fall into the depths
I shudder at death by disregard
even worse
this silence that has gently fallen between us
suddenly
its wicked poison shatters the nights closing with a slow, thought provoking, acidic burn coarsing through our veins
vessels
that once pumped joyous light into our hearts
All that I asked of you
(was) to be merely be there
loves promise was squandered
all lies
promises broken
I never wanted to believe that this was who you really were...
you forgot
about me
I am the forgotten
the fallen
Be there
when I awake
when I am no longer there for you
your reach will come up empty short of lifes breath
We held so much promise
(but) as old love letters clutched
we dissipate into nothing more than ashen reminders of what could have been...
Be there
when I arise
I omit no words, ever
you have all but to look into my eyes
to witness
the reflection
of your fall
into memory
Well until next Thursday, hope you enjoyed the thoughts, although a bit dark, even for me eh?
From my hand to yours,
Sawyer
Saint Andrews
