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Benen Eachann
Supernova
- Joined
- Apr 4, 2011
- Location
- Off in my own world
Azer stood watch as the clouds rolled by the hills, he was old, though he did not look it Azer was close to 10000 years old, he had lived a long and hard life. He stood looking out over the sea and wished that he could finally settle down and stop the war that always seemed to be surrounding his life.
The sea of Nil was quite today, the waves lapping at the shores with peace, and yet somewhere in Azer's mind a typhoon was raging. He kept to himself, but soon he was reminded of a song that he had sung when he was younger.
It was more of a poem, from texts long passed from this world, from a man name Shakespeare. It was old and archaic,but he remembered it well;
I have of late--but wherefore I know not--lost all my mirth, forgone all
custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not me: no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so.
He finished and stood thinking and listening to the world.
The sea of Nil was quite today, the waves lapping at the shores with peace, and yet somewhere in Azer's mind a typhoon was raging. He kept to himself, but soon he was reminded of a song that he had sung when he was younger.
It was more of a poem, from texts long passed from this world, from a man name Shakespeare. It was old and archaic,but he remembered it well;
I have of late--but wherefore I know not--lost all my mirth, forgone all
custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not me: no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so.
He finished and stood thinking and listening to the world.
