Inuyasha searched on the inside of an abandon Sanctuary, though it
was desolate. He implored these confines as he penatrated the walls of
guarding. The air so chill and light, almost brought the silver haired half
demon to a swoon. A white lace of light fluttered through a cracked
opening, small and yet large enough for Inuyasha to come through.
Once inside this abode of death, he took in the sites of it. Monolithic structures of Heaven and Hell covered the walls of red blood. So simple a wind, and he was swept into the shadows. And there he heard a voice. The voice of Hell, the voice of truth.
"It is of late that you must hear this truth. You must leave this deadspace of lies. You have been writhing in a dream. A dream and dance of misery and death. Your mind has become decayed with this fantasy of facades. You see the hidden truth, embedded with your imagination. And yet, you try to kill it, try to hide it within the black still of your eyes. But now, you are surrounded by it. By the fact that you are dead. You have been dead for 50 years. Everything you have thought was real, was not. There was no Naraku. There was no deception. You are the one the killed the priestess Kikyo. It was you who had brought her into malignant death. And soon after, your mind played a trick on you. It dealt you the card of trickery, which you so easily fell for. Kikyo did not kill you, no one killed you, but yourself. Your soul was burning you alive inside. And after one slip of your power, it consumed you. You lay there aside your love, bleeding internally. The light kisses of the moon graced you and lead you into eternal sleep. Where your fragile mind created a place. A place where you could start from whence you left. And still, it has brought you tradegy. Now, you have wasted away. This is the final death. The colors of life have turned gray for you, Inuyasha. The horrid truth has surfaced, and still you are not enthralled. Your arrogance has brought you to this. And now...as the bell discarnates, you die. More so on the inside then out. Your thoughts, preternatural. Your soul, infernal. To anything that is dead, but not yet died as you have, unnatural. Here you are, strewn across the floor, the puzzle finally been solved. The pieces once lost, now fit. The echoes of the past broke hearts and souls. Your echo, brought your death twice. Never finding salvation, you scratched the earth into a message. A message so vague and so precise."
You lay under the emptiness and drifted into savagery and eloquence. Poetry in despair, you fall. And yet, you still stand. You kiss life as you're thrown into the still malestorm. Forever haunted, never afraid.
Once inside this abode of death, he took in the sites of it. Monolithic structures of Heaven and Hell covered the walls of red blood. So simple a wind, and he was swept into the shadows. And there he heard a voice. The voice of Hell, the voice of truth.
"It is of late that you must hear this truth. You must leave this deadspace of lies. You have been writhing in a dream. A dream and dance of misery and death. Your mind has become decayed with this fantasy of facades. You see the hidden truth, embedded with your imagination. And yet, you try to kill it, try to hide it within the black still of your eyes. But now, you are surrounded by it. By the fact that you are dead. You have been dead for 50 years. Everything you have thought was real, was not. There was no Naraku. There was no deception. You are the one the killed the priestess Kikyo. It was you who had brought her into malignant death. And soon after, your mind played a trick on you. It dealt you the card of trickery, which you so easily fell for. Kikyo did not kill you, no one killed you, but yourself. Your soul was burning you alive inside. And after one slip of your power, it consumed you. You lay there aside your love, bleeding internally. The light kisses of the moon graced you and lead you into eternal sleep. Where your fragile mind created a place. A place where you could start from whence you left. And still, it has brought you tradegy. Now, you have wasted away. This is the final death. The colors of life have turned gray for you, Inuyasha. The horrid truth has surfaced, and still you are not enthralled. Your arrogance has brought you to this. And now...as the bell discarnates, you die. More so on the inside then out. Your thoughts, preternatural. Your soul, infernal. To anything that is dead, but not yet died as you have, unnatural. Here you are, strewn across the floor, the puzzle finally been solved. The pieces once lost, now fit. The echoes of the past broke hearts and souls. Your echo, brought your death twice. Never finding salvation, you scratched the earth into a message. A message so vague and so precise."
You lay under the emptiness and drifted into savagery and eloquence. Poetry in despair, you fall. And yet, you still stand. You kiss life as you're thrown into the still malestorm. Forever haunted, never afraid.