HOME | DD

Description
Hunger.

Hunger is my mistress, now.

The one who drives me from my place atop the walls,

To cast my shadow upon the city's bones below.

I prowl through these broken places,

Forgotten temples of cold gods, cast down by time, and war.

And in the sheets of filthy glass which I lope past,

I can almost see myself, wreathed in white,

A specter of what once was, or maybe myth.

Half-forgotten nothings flit across my mind

Like dusty moths in an empty attic.

A man. A door. A tube of glass. Fluid bubbling over an open flame.

I pay them no mind.

The hunger drives me on.

My search will likely be in vain.

They are no longer here, to satisfy the hunger.

We hunted them through the long twilight of their world.

They fought back, striking out with fire and force.

They were determined. But we were many. We were legion.

Horde.

And as we hunted them, they joined us.

Now, we are one and the same.

They do not come here, any longer.

I return to my place, high atop the wreckage of times gone by,

Watching, ever silent, ever vigilant.

One day, I will find them.

My mistress will point the way with her bony hand, as cold as ice,

And my throat will ring with screams as I stalk them.

We will chase them; pursue them until they can go no further.

And when we have them, at last, we will make them like us.

And for a time, the hunger will disappear.

But that is not today.

Today, there is only

Hunger.

Description
Hunger.

Hunger is my mistress, now.

The one who drives me from my place atop the walls,

To cast my shadow upon the city's bones below.

I prowl through these broken places,

Forgotten temples of cold gods, cast down by time, and war.

And in the sheets of filthy glass which I lope past,

I can almost see myself, wreathed in white,

A specter of what once was, or maybe myth.

Half-forgotten nothings flit across my mind

Like dusty moths in an empty attic.

A man. A door. A tube of glass. Fluid bubbling over an open flame.

I pay them no mind.

The hunger drives me on.

My search will likely be in vain.

They are no longer here, to satisfy the hunger.

We hunted them through the long twilight of their world.

They fought back, striking out with fire and force.

They were determined. But we were many. We were legion.

Horde.

And as we hunted them, they joined us.

Now, we are one and the same.

They do not come here, any longer.

I return to my place, high atop the wreckage of times gone by,

Watching, ever silent, ever vigilant.

One day, I will find them.

My mistress will point the way with her bony hand, as cold as ice,

And my throat will ring with screams as I stalk them.

We will chase them; pursue them until they can go no further.

And when we have them, at last, we will make them like us.

And for a time, the hunger will disappear.

But that is not today.

Today, there is only

Hunger.