"Are you a wise man, papa?"
The words always seemed hollow to his ears. Months had gone by since he had last heard those words. Oh, what he'd give to hear those words again, to see the tiny head that belonged to that voice and those innocent eyes that seemed to align the stars in the universe. Oh, what he'd truly, truly do just to see his little boy again.
The small room got him extremely restless, but he had accepted his fate. He deserved this. His doing was his undoing and now he had to suffer the consequences. But memory is a strange thing. It didn't work the way he thought it would. He could rewind that terrible, terrible day second by second, memory didn't fail him then. But his little boy and the joyous youth he carried in the air around him every time he entered a room, seem but a fading distant memory.
But every time they met, the youthful wonder was slowly replaced by a burning fire. A fire that soon engulfed every bridge between them. His son's eyes seem to pinch his skin as they seemed to say, "Look at the arm that cradled me burn, watch it burn papa." His boy is almost been the most gentle human being has ever known. His son's gentleness was his greatest armour.
He always thought sorrow bought him love. He remembered the day he met her, a moonless night as they sat drinking under the stars instead, not a single worry in the world. Oh, the hopes and dreams they had, almost as if you could make physical manifestations of their dreams and hang them in the air that night. He knew he should be worried, fear the love that comes in sorrow, especially since she bought him out of a deep dark place, he knew he would drown in if she hadn't come by. He brought sorrow to everyone he loved, but love always came to him in sorrow. That night was dark and silent with no moon in sight, but she was the moon he needed and she gave him the biggest star of his life, his son, with eyes so kind, he wished to shield those eyes from everyone in the world.
His eyes became teary as memory started to fail him as the sound of the ocean became stronger than that of his son's. The cell walls shook with the anticipation of a great storm. He knew better than to fight it. He sent a silent prayer for his sins and wished and hoped nothing but all the happiness in the world to his son. The waves roared in anger, the anger of a gentle man. He smiled at his window as the waves crashed dangerously close to the gates. He felt the anger deep in his bones and shook with fear as he accepted his fate.
There are three things all wise men fear - the sea in storm, a night with no moon and the anger of a gentle man.
"Are you a wise man, papa?"
"One day I will be just that. For you my love, I'd be the wisest of them all."
- fin
Here's a little something I wrote after one the quotes written by Patrick Rothfuss in the Kingskiller Chronicles. "There are three things all wise men fear - the sea in storm, a night with no moon and the anger of a gentle man."
To anyone who's into fantasy, these books are a great read.
The words always seemed hollow to his ears. Months had gone by since he had last heard those words. Oh, what he'd give to hear those words again, to see the tiny head that belonged to that voice and those innocent eyes that seemed to align the stars in the universe. Oh, what he'd truly, truly do just to see his little boy again.
The small room got him extremely restless, but he had accepted his fate. He deserved this. His doing was his undoing and now he had to suffer the consequences. But memory is a strange thing. It didn't work the way he thought it would. He could rewind that terrible, terrible day second by second, memory didn't fail him then. But his little boy and the joyous youth he carried in the air around him every time he entered a room, seem but a fading distant memory.
But every time they met, the youthful wonder was slowly replaced by a burning fire. A fire that soon engulfed every bridge between them. His son's eyes seem to pinch his skin as they seemed to say, "Look at the arm that cradled me burn, watch it burn papa." His boy is almost been the most gentle human being has ever known. His son's gentleness was his greatest armour.
He always thought sorrow bought him love. He remembered the day he met her, a moonless night as they sat drinking under the stars instead, not a single worry in the world. Oh, the hopes and dreams they had, almost as if you could make physical manifestations of their dreams and hang them in the air that night. He knew he should be worried, fear the love that comes in sorrow, especially since she bought him out of a deep dark place, he knew he would drown in if she hadn't come by. He brought sorrow to everyone he loved, but love always came to him in sorrow. That night was dark and silent with no moon in sight, but she was the moon he needed and she gave him the biggest star of his life, his son, with eyes so kind, he wished to shield those eyes from everyone in the world.
His eyes became teary as memory started to fail him as the sound of the ocean became stronger than that of his son's. The cell walls shook with the anticipation of a great storm. He knew better than to fight it. He sent a silent prayer for his sins and wished and hoped nothing but all the happiness in the world to his son. The waves roared in anger, the anger of a gentle man. He smiled at his window as the waves crashed dangerously close to the gates. He felt the anger deep in his bones and shook with fear as he accepted his fate.
There are three things all wise men fear - the sea in storm, a night with no moon and the anger of a gentle man.
"Are you a wise man, papa?"
"One day I will be just that. For you my love, I'd be the wisest of them all."
- fin
Here's a little something I wrote after one the quotes written by Patrick Rothfuss in the Kingskiller Chronicles. "There are three things all wise men fear - the sea in storm, a night with no moon and the anger of a gentle man."
To anyone who's into fantasy, these books are a great read.
Very well written.
ReplyDelete