A Journey Of Death

Death For Love

I feel I must apologise for any confusion from my part.

Even now as I think of what to write and record, attempt to organise the chaotic memories of my mind, there are only a few occasions that I deem, necessary. In this long life of mine, I have witnessed scenes that would confuse, confound and corrupt... but I don't wish for my record to become some flight of fancy, but rather, a lesson.

A lesson in what I have learnt... where I truly learnt something more.

One of many such lessons was my first encounter, with 'Love'.

'Love' was the same as me, drifting constantly, following the pull, that irresistible calling that echoed out across the expanse of all, chaining us to purpose.

It was on a planet, long since worn to dust that we met, both existing, looking down upon love, and watching what I believed was the death of it.

Two blue beasts lay still, ragged fur ruffling in the billowing wind of a desolate plain. Above them circled a cloud covered sky, painting the land in blotches of shadow as light vainly tried to break through. In this world the only light that shined was that of unsavoury souls, of the predatory glint in darkened eyes and the gleam of clenched jaws.

If I was able too, I would draw this scene from memory and scar it into this paper. To truly inscribe the forlorn feeling that world gave, to make you see the long shadows that drew into the horizon, hiding savage exchanges of life and death as those who survived walked out, prowling the land as sandy winds tousled them, their only companion in a blighted world of ever present shade.

I know that the words I am using do not do it justice, but I must try, for what is the point of being, if I cannot do something so simple.

The irony still strikes me now, that in such a forlorn world, with no civilisation to speak of, no language to break barriers or sentience of thought, was where I encountered 'love' for the first time.

We could feel each other.

No forms to skin our bodies, we were separate from the world but part of it still, both looking down upon the same two creatures, both guided by a different pull.

I remember our exchange, the same and yet so different.

"What guides you?"

"A pull different to your own."

"..."

"I am Death."

"I am Love."

It is only by writing now that I remember the small details so easily overlooked. The difference in our tones, mine slow and deep whilst 'Love's' was tantalising, a constant nibble that worked away at all who heard it.

"Why are you here?"

"I have not yet learnt why. But they drew me here."

"They drew us both here."

Below us still were the blue beasts, true creatures of survival. Lean powerful bodies of feral muscle, ready to pounce and lash in a moment. They prowled this land of solitude, drifting between shades, hunting for that one moment of weakness in another whilst covering their own. And yet, two such lonely figures were crouched low, supporting one another as they rested, unguarded towards the other.

"How long have you watched?"

"Long enough to see the start of love."

"And what is Love?"

"That which I will follow."

By the time I had arrived on this planet I had already seen death many times, I did not know and still do not know if 'Love' had experienced death, but I knew she was soon to experience it. For below us, one of the beasts was drawing its last. And what use am I aside from hounding deaths own steps.