Dr.Cross: The Nightingale's song

The nightingale cries on nights like this. It's beautiful, I would never deny it it's beauty, but it is fraught with a sorrow that man was never supposed to know. So soft. The nightingale's plaintive melody is so damn soft. Every night it sits outside my window, to sing to me, solemnly, mocking me. The bird sings my own tune to me. A tune that I carved into the world through my own iniquity, and it's so damn soft. I can hear it now, of course the nightingale is never far away, I can always hear it. It flutters, not the bird, the note. Suspended within the air, the shrill, pained note that shrieks it's message to the world. The message I wrote. I was a good man, by any standard. How cruel a god that would do this to me. I was saving lives! I was trying to save lives, and this is what I get. The note no longer flutters but falls, and the notes seem to form a river as they fall. They curve and they slow, all with the cold, smooth sorrow of the stream. The note steps up, a little eddie in the current, and falls again, falls indefinitely, a waterfall with no end. That is where the song is no longer mine, the fall. To be picked up by a man braver then I, for the note will never raise itself again. The poor little bird, doomed to sing my song. A song that the dawn will never lift, and joy will never save. My sorrow is eternal. So damned softly the bird sings, waiting for another man to pick up the torch and give the bird another note. Another man who is daring enough to play God, daring enough to do good. Sweet Alison the darkness cannot keep us apart much longer, but how can I willingly hand my self to such a cruel god as would leave me here. There is a third way, that I can see you, see our children, that abomination that holds me, that lives in me, feeds off me. Maybe it can bring you back, that which drove me too- My own hands. You died at my own hands, and I was forced to watch. Trapped inside my own body, unable to stop it. To play God once more, and bring you back to me. He cannot stop me, you are mine Alison, and Until I am dead I will deny him you. The note lifts once more, what false hope. Can you realize what you do nightingale?Such capacity for beauty, and all you bring to me is hate. You bring me this plaintive song, as if to speak of how you loathe me. My own existence must disgust creation, for I am simply an abomination. Perhaps, nightingale, you don't loathe me, you are simply like me, trapped inside your own body. Thinking nothing but love, leaving nothing but hate. Stay with me nightingale, for my work is not one of beauty.

Salvation in the City of Dogs

Darkness fills this place, but I am far from fearing the night. The soft beat of the rain falls here, and the city lives by it's plaintive beat, I live by it's plaintive beat. The street exhales, soft light pouring from the headlights of passing cars. The street light flickers, and the street in hales once more. Darkness comes from the street now, but it's okay, I no longer fear the night. The light flickers on, and the street comes back to life. I wait for the light to let it's fragile life slip once more. Darkness again, I move, completely silently, unnoticed in the slowly dying city. I steal across the cold street, how calm the night. my body falls gracefully into the shadows at no work of my own, falls back into the world of darkness, the world which I live so comfortably in. I glance back at the sputtering street. Watching as it slowly dies. This City is dying, and I don't give a damn if it takes me with it.

Salvation in the City of Dogs (Monolougue)

Why does the sun sink so slowly in autumn? I have always hated the way that it hangs bloody crimson in the sky, mocking me, reminding me of spilt blood, as the sun bleeds across the sky. It holds something softer, though, a hint of beauty. Leading me to remember her, that subtle shine her eyes held, the gentle way she formed her words. Why now? What have I done to be so haunted? Damn this bloody sky...

It's Darker now, I like the night. The blackness that surrounds me makes it easy, easy to escape, easy to forget. Still, even in the darkness she haunts me, the ghostly memories of her curves under my fingers. How could I lose all feeling but this... This dreadful terror that rises up in my soul. A terror bred from innocence and beauty, they destroyed her. Everything that was my love, they destroyed her. Leaving their tracks on the sky, thank god for this blanket... this darkness, let me forget, let me flee from this memory that shadows me, let me be swept away into the bitter symphony of the stars.

How long will I run... Headlong through the darkness, drowning out my thoughts with the echo of my footsteps in the alley. I was running to her, subconsciously maybe, but I was always running to her, it was nothing new. What did they do to you, Erin. Why did they have to give you back to me, like this. This is not you, just a clever imitation of you, everything you were to me. They didn't get it right though, your beauty came from your joy, the gentle curve of your lips that I could not draw my self away from, oh to see those lips smile once more. For me Erin... For Me...

We’ll make them pay, won’t we, my sweet…my Erin…my…How could they break you like this, so full of life, now just a shell, an empty shell…Nothing more than a doll, a broken, emotionless doll…my Erin…It’s Darker now, I like the night. It will hide my scars, hide my pain, hide my face, but not theirs… they cannot hide, not in the blackest of night, because the night is my friend. Unlike that damned bloody sky… that damned sky that holds what’s left of you…My Erin…

A View of an Untold Event in Repose and Stanza.

I wish I could swear this to you.

promise to protect you,

hold you,

keep you from the world.

How can I keep you from a world I can barely face?

A world as hideous as this,

yet one that can spawn a such beauty;

Such beauty as you.

So my door is open,

Always to you.

What can I offer?

An ear to listen

a heart to love.

Of course you would run to his promise!

To a false hope,

an imperfect safety

Oh, I wish I could promise,

but that lie won't grace my lips.

What a bitter howl the wind makes!

I feel your fear,

of rain,

of thunder,

of the storm that is being held at bay.

I wish I could swear to your protection

but I can only hold you through this storm

and hope we survive...