Mary E.Pearson

Today was the day a thousand dreams would die and a single dream would be born.

Just as she had since the first time I saw her, she fascinated me, except that now I needed her like a raven needs the sky

But all I heard was a different kind of knowing, one that even Morrighan couldn’t hear, a knowing that felt as sure and old as the earth itself. It whispered deep within my gut, I am yours, Morrighan, forever yours … and when the last star of the universe blinks silent, I will still be yours

“I would cut out my own heart before I would let any harm come to you.”

Write it down, he had told me.
Write down every word once you get there,
Before the truth is forgotten.
And now we do, at least the parts we remember.

Write it down, he had told me.

Write down every word once you get there,

Before the truth is forgotten.

And now we do, at least the parts we remember.

The ghosts are still here.

Soon, all the destruction would be in the belly of the earth. Who would remember?

Weakness made you a target, and I had promised myself, long ago, I would never be a target again.

Because power, I had learned, could be just as seductive as a warm loaf of bread, and the small bit I wielded over them was sometimes all the food I needed.