Post by Janice Olivia Monroe on Apr 16, 2010 19:25:44 GMT -6
The Mornings After
Epilogue of one Chapter, Beginning of Another
Calling my name
when I was half awake
The birds and the leaves
have joined October grey
But colder days are coming
the simple truth is plain
Daylight dawned, but the dawn was muted by the fact the colors suffered a schism from the ability of eye to enjoy them. Words in black ink were suitable for discretion, but the color of the sun against a gray morning infused with lavendar current was too much to understand. The weight of the shock was still present, though the initial hit was over with. A heart that beat like butterfly wings drew so still it made her breath stagger, for she forgot she often could breathe. No one would have favored the dramatics other maids were prone to, for Janice was no longer a maiden. The season of her innocence withered in the harsh aspect that had once taken her tenderly over the thresh hold to the secrets of women.
I'll have to walk a few more miles
before you say my name again
A golden fruit was marred; the sour taste couldn't be erased no matter how many cups of water nor sweet masked teas she drank. Her body, once celebrating the changes, felt used. Could abuse be consentual? It had been a pretty scenario, but perhaps the cruelest blow that had ever been dealt to her was that wrapped in the guise of God's holiest command. Her marriage was no farce, and yet there was not enough fortitude to carry the exquisite, quick made bloom beyond a few tender months that now drew out tears when there should have been none left. She moved, for it was what was expected. She worked, commanding respect in in the halls of the new King. She took duty with due diligence nor was any less obligatory, but if one could only look beyond the veil of hair at the side of her face to the eye just within the profile, they would see a light that flickered. The night that the Austrian shores he at once despised, but so highly coveted, won him in the struggle, she'd collapsed. Honor paid its price in the slight etching of a healing scar from the corner of the left eye to her temple, where the wood of the stairway bit in. It had almost diminished the potential of sight...but Janice was a remarkable creature. She thrived on surviving impossible scenarios. He had forced her from the comfort of the last bit of what was known; the tail edge of not living by experience, and living only by witness. For that, she would give him some degree of thanks.
Beggars and kings
are tied to what they've got
Unreachable things
have now become my lot
As if my only treasure
was dust and blew
I'll have to walk a few more miles
before you say my name again
Still, it was only the echo within the home that repeated her name, or the thoughts in her head mimicking his voice to find the place where bliss turned to betrayal. He wouldn't say her name again. Ever. The pain she experienced was disected on altars for prayer, put on pillows to read in wet tears. In the privacy of her home, she had thrown his things into the hearth, and sobbed at the remnants of ash. Her silence read like the volume of a thousand words, but hardly a soul spoke Viscreed. No one really spoke de'Brabant, the name she wore still despite the law that would entitle her to the maiden, the other. Viscreed. The name of a shy, lost soul who found strength in the unreachable that became real. A vestal virgin who's fire was in her lineage; the desire to be possessed by many culminated in the want to live for all. Still, that name was not what or whom she was now. Graduated beyond the old but stranded in what should be new, she was in limbo. Poor thing. Failing at all things of the heart in such comical colors. Leaning against the window of the odd morning, she gave a slight grin. This was not the first morning without it. It was one, in several.
I'll stand in the rain
until you let me know
Show me the way
I've got no way back home
And every time my heart beats
it's one less that remains
Today, at least, was also the first day her name didn't ache.
I'll have to walk a few more miles
before you say my name again
Amidst the secret of marriage faded that no one but she kept was also the secret of fact: Once, he told her that she couldn't survive in Austria, yet he could not survive in Skye. Once, she'd been told the liklihood of her enduring long on the continent was not long at all. In the want to defy the state of continued penance for a state of being she had no desire to invoke, and in desire to continue a service she'd promised to finish, she looked at more facts. Her life would still pay forfeit with or without the Austrian, and what if they now would have keys to the new kingdom for his closeness to their workings? With Spain on one hand, the other showcased the wilds of a Germanic state. There was much to consider, and the continent held it. Better still, she could decipher it. Templar Spanish secrets or German, Rome's high words or the root of a threat, she fathomed it all. Where a Lord and Master would have stayed her body o'er away from the sea, practical pain turned to sense made the prospect as necessary as it was daring. As crazed as it was impossibly brilliant. She was the daughter, after all, of the Grandmaster.
My life isn't mine
But something I can take
The future contrives
to draw me in its wake
I'm not afraid of leaving
if I know why and when
I'll have to go a little while
before you say my name again
My name again
I'll stand in the rain
until you let me...
First was to finish the trail of Secrets here, and then? Janice Olivia De'Brabant was going to excel for the unreachable, and succeed. Broken heart and all.
Lyrics - Say My Name, Oksana Grigorieva
Epilogue of one Chapter, Beginning of Another
Calling my name
when I was half awake
The birds and the leaves
have joined October grey
But colder days are coming
the simple truth is plain
Daylight dawned, but the dawn was muted by the fact the colors suffered a schism from the ability of eye to enjoy them. Words in black ink were suitable for discretion, but the color of the sun against a gray morning infused with lavendar current was too much to understand. The weight of the shock was still present, though the initial hit was over with. A heart that beat like butterfly wings drew so still it made her breath stagger, for she forgot she often could breathe. No one would have favored the dramatics other maids were prone to, for Janice was no longer a maiden. The season of her innocence withered in the harsh aspect that had once taken her tenderly over the thresh hold to the secrets of women.
I'll have to walk a few more miles
before you say my name again
A golden fruit was marred; the sour taste couldn't be erased no matter how many cups of water nor sweet masked teas she drank. Her body, once celebrating the changes, felt used. Could abuse be consentual? It had been a pretty scenario, but perhaps the cruelest blow that had ever been dealt to her was that wrapped in the guise of God's holiest command. Her marriage was no farce, and yet there was not enough fortitude to carry the exquisite, quick made bloom beyond a few tender months that now drew out tears when there should have been none left. She moved, for it was what was expected. She worked, commanding respect in in the halls of the new King. She took duty with due diligence nor was any less obligatory, but if one could only look beyond the veil of hair at the side of her face to the eye just within the profile, they would see a light that flickered. The night that the Austrian shores he at once despised, but so highly coveted, won him in the struggle, she'd collapsed. Honor paid its price in the slight etching of a healing scar from the corner of the left eye to her temple, where the wood of the stairway bit in. It had almost diminished the potential of sight...but Janice was a remarkable creature. She thrived on surviving impossible scenarios. He had forced her from the comfort of the last bit of what was known; the tail edge of not living by experience, and living only by witness. For that, she would give him some degree of thanks.
Beggars and kings
are tied to what they've got
Unreachable things
have now become my lot
As if my only treasure
was dust and blew
I'll have to walk a few more miles
before you say my name again
Still, it was only the echo within the home that repeated her name, or the thoughts in her head mimicking his voice to find the place where bliss turned to betrayal. He wouldn't say her name again. Ever. The pain she experienced was disected on altars for prayer, put on pillows to read in wet tears. In the privacy of her home, she had thrown his things into the hearth, and sobbed at the remnants of ash. Her silence read like the volume of a thousand words, but hardly a soul spoke Viscreed. No one really spoke de'Brabant, the name she wore still despite the law that would entitle her to the maiden, the other. Viscreed. The name of a shy, lost soul who found strength in the unreachable that became real. A vestal virgin who's fire was in her lineage; the desire to be possessed by many culminated in the want to live for all. Still, that name was not what or whom she was now. Graduated beyond the old but stranded in what should be new, she was in limbo. Poor thing. Failing at all things of the heart in such comical colors. Leaning against the window of the odd morning, she gave a slight grin. This was not the first morning without it. It was one, in several.
I'll stand in the rain
until you let me know
Show me the way
I've got no way back home
And every time my heart beats
it's one less that remains
Today, at least, was also the first day her name didn't ache.
I'll have to walk a few more miles
before you say my name again
Amidst the secret of marriage faded that no one but she kept was also the secret of fact: Once, he told her that she couldn't survive in Austria, yet he could not survive in Skye. Once, she'd been told the liklihood of her enduring long on the continent was not long at all. In the want to defy the state of continued penance for a state of being she had no desire to invoke, and in desire to continue a service she'd promised to finish, she looked at more facts. Her life would still pay forfeit with or without the Austrian, and what if they now would have keys to the new kingdom for his closeness to their workings? With Spain on one hand, the other showcased the wilds of a Germanic state. There was much to consider, and the continent held it. Better still, she could decipher it. Templar Spanish secrets or German, Rome's high words or the root of a threat, she fathomed it all. Where a Lord and Master would have stayed her body o'er away from the sea, practical pain turned to sense made the prospect as necessary as it was daring. As crazed as it was impossibly brilliant. She was the daughter, after all, of the Grandmaster.
My life isn't mine
But something I can take
The future contrives
to draw me in its wake
I'm not afraid of leaving
if I know why and when
I'll have to go a little while
before you say my name again
My name again
I'll stand in the rain
until you let me...
First was to finish the trail of Secrets here, and then? Janice Olivia De'Brabant was going to excel for the unreachable, and succeed. Broken heart and all.
Lyrics - Say My Name, Oksana Grigorieva