You're much too pretty to be bloody.
Courtney ColeI do not give a rat's front teeth about decorum right now," my father enunciated clearly and loudly. "I have a hole in my side! Have you not noticed?
Courtney ColePerfect. I would have an unbalanced psychopath on my hands armed with immortal supernatural power. This night kept getting better and better.
Courtney ColeHe looked at me for a moment, studying my face. What I had requested was very brazen for these times, something a lady would never do. But I wasn't a lady. I was a goddess and I would do whatever the hell I felt like doing.
Courtney ColeI can never watch you die again," I cried as tears streaked down my cheeks and fell onto him "I cannot do it. Are you listening?
Courtney ColeCool hands grasped my shoulders and tried to pull me away from Camdus, but I wouldn't have it. I was going nowhere. I clutched his shoulders, breathing him in. I was determined to stay with my husband no matter what. They would have to pry me away. And then someone did.
Courtney ColeHer bones felt thin and hollow beneath my fists, but her frailty didn't deter me. I wanted her to feel my pain.
Courtney ColeMy screams were loud enough to reach the corners of the earth.
Courtney ColeThe thought of his mind wandering while long sharp objects were trying to knock him off his horse alarmed me.
Courtney ColeAfter a thousand years pass, it builds its own funeral pyre, lining it with cinnamon, myrrh and cassia. Climbing to a rest on the very top, it examines the world all throughout the night with the ability to see true good and evil. When the sun rises the next morning, with great sorrow for all that it sees, it sings a haunting song. As it sings, the heat of the sun ignites the expensive spices and the Phoenix dies in the flames.
But the Phoenix is not remarkable for its feathers or flames. It is most revered for its ability to climb from its own funeral pyre, from the very ashes of its old charred body, as a brand new life ready to live again once more. Life after life, it goes through this cycle. It absorbs human sorrow, only to rise from death to do it all again. It never wearies, it never tires. It never questions its fate. Some say that the Phoenix is real, that it exists somewhere out there in the mountains of Arabia, elusive and mysterious. Others say that the Phoenix is only a wish made by desperate humans to believe in the continuance of life.
But I know a secret.
We are the Phoenix.
Stichwörter: inspirational fate rebirth
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