Jorrick's Lament

Jorrick’s Lament

Why is this night so Dark?

Why does the Moon seem to abandon my every wayward eve?

As though the kingly Orb itself wishes to veil my very affairs from sight. Injustice! I cannot understand: of all the condemned souls that wander these plagued lands, why does it loathe the Reaper? I know you must think it folly to hear such concern over the pale glow of a lifeless stone. Nevertheless, in times as Dark as these, the palest of moon-light can lighten even the Darkest of Pilgrims.

Indeed. Joyous! Ferocious! Explosive! Flames of Divinity!

Such is this glow they take for ‘granted’.

The Fallen do not understand. They have walked as damned for too long. Oblivious to an Oblivion! Worlds wield on endlessly around them, time and space, mere boundless exponentials of infinity.

They do not know that this Moon is a mere mirror into the Creator’s true eye. He does not look upon us with favor, He does not look upon ‘us’ with love!

He loves them!

Made in his image, given every gift there is to give. They care nothing for the light of day, nothing for the spectacle which would mesmerize, utterly bewilder my kin. For it is a sight unknown to them. I have not the heart to speak of such matters with them, best they linger in a dream world. If the night is all they’ll know.

But do I dare question the Creator? The Almighty!?

I was created an abomination! I was not cast asunder and sheathed of shadows - I was imprisoned!

The Wolf did not choose its ravenous hunger, nor the Owl its Deathly glare.

There are those, condemned… is all I say.

Give us our moon light...