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Kay Ciesielczyk

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Faingor

Faingor
Faingor

Faingor | Media List


Statement

Once upon a dark, dark time,
A little girl wandered along a long, long wall,
That crawled with creepers, skinny and tall,
Cracked with age, slathered with grime.
She did not touch it, but followed along,
To where the sky went from blue to gray, and soon black.
Like a maze, she walked, she couldn't turn back,
For it had been too far and too long,
Along, along, this grimey wall.
Her heart pounded as the skies blackened more,
A hand in front of her face she could not see,
Until suddenly, a shot of light! What could this be?
Blinded, scared..!  A hideous roar!
It rose from her shadow that stretched along the light,
And screamed at her, “Dare you walk to his tower?!?”
“Without permission, without invitation, like a princess wielding false power?!”
Terrified, the girl trembled, in fear of this beast's might.
Trembled so hard, to her knees did she fall.
“I am just a girl, I only followed this wall..”
And up into the sky she looked, her gaze meeting the beasts',
And with fury the wraith snarled, struck the girl to the ground,
With a terrible sound,
It screeched, “Do you think you have right to look at me?”
In this dark, dark time, this scenario played,
More than once, twice, almost every day.
Until the moment, the girl fought back, “NOT TODAY!”
Tears streamed down her cheeks, but her heart made
A strong thump, thump, thump..
It was powerful, it beat harder than the beast
Could have ever possibly beat, batter, or screech.
The beast stood straight, shrank down to meet,
And thought to itself, “What have I done?”
Broken, lost, raped and ravaged,
Was the little girl that it savaged.
In denial, without hope, in regret
The beast tore itself apart piece by piece.
Mangling its chest, clawing its eyes,
"I hate myself! I hate you! I despise what I've become!"
And sunk to the floor in tears and blood.
Above the creature a shadow did arise,
The little girl, tears and pity flood.
With that empathy, the creature's body disappeared,
Into her shadow, and became nothing more but always there,
As nothing more than a shadow but much greater than a reflection,
To ravage, to hate, to regret, to suffer, to be loved and feared.
In this small, fantastical lore,
Bore her name: the hateful, the loving,
My best friend, my worst enemy,
Faingor.