C'est la vie

C'est la vie

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Jul 15, 2017
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Fiction
Social Themes
'A crown doesn't make you a king.' ___________________________________ Every king has a crown. A crown full of jewels. That's the only way the world would know his rules. But what if I told you, a long time ago, there lived a king with a set of mysterious green eyes. If you gazed into them you would've been amazed to see how he stares afar into the night sky, with longing in his eyes. When you stare into his eyes you wonder how a person that has everything at his feet could possibly feel weak ..? I don't know if what they say is true. But I do know that he longed for someone from the depth of his soul. He sacrificed all he had for a reason, yet to be told. But the only difference between him and the other kings was that, he didn't have a crown. What is a king without a crown ? Nothing. Simply nothing. But he lost his crown the day he lost his queen. Now can you tell me, what is a king without his queen? __________________________________ They both live in the same world but are worlds apart. How could that possibly be ? Waleed thinks arrogance is the key but Hayat thinks otherwise. When they both bump into each other, hatred sparks. But that's too cliche, right ? What if I tell you that our boy Waleed is the one behind the nightmares our little Hayat has ? Would he still be lovable even after that ?
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Through thick and thin the Law shall prevail. A new sense of purpose awaits us, children of light, in the land where it all began. The darkness in which we once cowered in fear, now curbed by the might of our endless light. Come, brothers, come, sisters. Let there be peace among the wicked, just as the Law dictates. Peace and certainty is all that you have ever longed for, little angel. A bright, stable future. A roof without holes above thy head. Acknowledgement and recognition of thy existence, feverish dreams of grandeur. Greed born from yearning, treacherous vines of rapacity taint your innocent soul. You seek a future that does not exist. Let thy fingers hold the fragile line between dream and nightmare. Let thy light navigate the path. Shall thee give in and falter, O' land of old, envelop his body in thy unending flame of chaos. Spit out nothing but an empty husk, the remnants of a smile once so bright. Shall thee prevail, O', Great Kazdel, I ask of you, the impossible - take mercy on the innocent. Don't let the radiance dim and don't let the mind turn bleak. Wake, young traveler. Bid thy farewells and burn thy bridges. It's time to say goodbye, curly head. Cross post from AO3. For a shorter and more on-point description, look no further! I had something silly written up before throwing it out in exchange for that wall of text upstairs. It's a little story "about a young, dumb sankta who's been dealt a bad hand at life, looking for his place in all this mess. The pointless search for a better future leads him far, far away from home, to a country forever ravaged by war and misery - Kazdel, the promised land where devils roam free and peace feels out of place." Anyway, it's quite lengthy, but hopefully enjoyable? Slide a comment if you want, I'll give you a tiny kiss on the forehead. Man, do I love comments. (Lastly, to point out, English is not my native language, but I don't think it'll be much of an issue ;3)

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