The corridors stole the likeness of memories to torment.
( Perverting them, contorting them, making monsters of memory. His uncle, whispering of his futility and derangement, his elders cursing out the storm of his name. The skin of his back singeing with old aches of wintered shame.
Yes, he walked those corridors. Nearly surrendered, but ultimately withheld his shadow and image from the mirrors. )
All, thieving appearance. ( And he knows, then, where thoughts trickle, how minds turn. Looks upon webs and their slow, crisp coalescence, and walks his fingertips on the remains of them, like graveyards. )
What likeness did the web steal? ( And unspoken, Who wears it now?
The answer, slowly revealed in a hungry hand, in the steely cold that hangs heavy in his palm. He holds up a tag by its chained necklace, the engraving of the Hand soldier's division and rank, writ large. )
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The corridors stole the likeness of memories to torment.
( Perverting them, contorting them, making monsters of memory. His uncle, whispering of his futility and derangement, his elders cursing out the storm of his name. The skin of his back singeing with old aches of wintered shame.
Yes, he walked those corridors. Nearly surrendered, but ultimately withheld his shadow and image from the mirrors. )
All, thieving appearance. ( And he knows, then, where thoughts trickle, how minds turn. Looks upon webs and their slow, crisp coalescence, and walks his fingertips on the remains of them, like graveyards. )
What likeness did the web steal? ( And unspoken, Who wears it now?
The answer, slowly revealed in a hungry hand, in the steely cold that hangs heavy in his palm. He holds up a tag by its chained necklace, the engraving of the Hand soldier's division and rank, writ large. )