The Undiscovered Country

Dominion

She reached down and gripped a fistful of crumpled bedsheet. The sweat was dry now, the unruly sheets the only record remaining of the night when she had spoken to her Lord, the night when He had come to her, the night when He had taken her into His dominion.

When I close my eyes
When I look your way

All gone now. Gone. Gone and yet this world remained. Her legs buckled, she fell to her knees, clutching the bed, head bowed, grief, grief hollowing her out to a fragile, weightless husk.

When I meet the fear that lies inside

He was gone, and she was lost without Him.

On the lone and level
Sand stretch far away

She had no one now. No one but the strangers she had met in the mirrors. She had preached to them then, a dark priestess with a sermon of love and family, friendship and comfort.

What comfort was there for her?

In the settled dust
Hold hold and say

To see Clausis torn asunder, limb rent from limb, head impaled and displayed to the mocking crows. There was comfort in that thought.

But what then? What now, with her Lord gone, gone forever?

Some say prayers
Some say prayers

Was there some spark of him left within her? Some faint glowing ember of His almighty power?

Or was that a fond and foolish wish? A way to close up her grief, to deny the depth of the abyss even when staring into unending darkness?

Some say prayers
Some say prayers

She raised her head. Whatever power she had, it would have to be enough. And perhaps, in time, her Lord would return. For was not the Master of all things the Master of his own death?

Some day
Some day
Dominion

And when He returned, would He not remember her?

Some say prayers
Some say prayers
I say mine

Comments

Can confirm that self-earworming is the worst earworming.

Dominion
iain_james_coleman

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