The giant has finally walked out from the wars he initiated.
He went back to the village and has never felt so empty.
Looking deep into the well, reaching his hand and cannot help but trembling.
The peace feels surreal, there is one high pitched noise in his head, the damn cuckoo clock still works in the dusty bars on the opposite of the road.
Stripping off in the stillness of a quiet alley,
Putting down the worn-out guards.
The soft part of the bed still feels the same, as if all the violence has vanished into the remote side of the solar system, becoming the countless dust dispersed into the irrelevant history.
He is now in a different war, he thinks.
The lavish background almost fooled him, taken it as the victory party he should have deserved.
The silky scarf went over his head as if in the serene deep seas, the black silhouette manta ray, in his way, revealed the texture of love to him.
Survival instinct seems redundant, what is left to do is immersion.
Beauty were scattered,
Mirrors everywhere,
In the harmonious lukewarm day.
Language was not the necessary tool to be utilised,
No urgency for a point to be made or a territory to be defended.
Every being lives naturally, morals are replaced by balance, righteousness are replaced by sensational excitement.
He has stopped wondering where he is in, intrigue triumphs the untrusting insecurities.
He came forward.
Woke up in the smell of burnt sour dough.
He started to question whether the invincible vitality is the force that constitute the trapping, yet in last night, a careless mistake was made.
God’s will could be carried out by a restless thief with certain unreliability, huh.
Villagers have returned from the safe shelter,
He went back to the iron shop.
One day, a girl, wearing a bit greyed-out purple dress, put a tiny flower on his threshold.
The second time, he stopped that girl before she ran away again.
She turned around,
The face, along with the sunset light shining through the edges of it,
Reminds him of that dream, now standing in front of him.
He came forward.
(In the above context, beast refers to Mars; beauty refers to Venus; thief refers to Mercury. In ancient Greek mythology, Venus married to Mars)
~Carol Shi