 
The little wolf boy, just turned 18, sat beneath the silver moon and stared up at the night sky. He reveled in the moonlight and enjoyed counting the shooting stars as they wisked away with is his wishes. People wonder why he sits there in that same spot, on that same grave in the graveyard on the hilltop. Some say he's howling at the moon like a werewolf. Others say he's just making noise for fun.Still others say he's hurting inside and he's letting it out. Those ones are the closest. He sits atop his lover's grave and howls his anguish to the heavens, wishing on every shooting star that passes for someone to come and take his life so that they may be reunited on the other side. He holds in his mouth this Christmas Eve, a single White Rose that was his lover's favorite, and he cries at the thought that he never got to give it to him. He lays the Rose upon the grave and gives one last mighty howl before the one who took his lover's life falls from the sky, wings spread wide. The one who was called the Raven came for the boy, the mighty scythe, still stained with his lover's blood, tears through his flesh and as the light of life fades from his eyes the people below all raise their voices in unison. They understand at last and say together as one."A boy's love shall conquer all!" over and over as the Raven flies away. As the sun begins to rise the next morning they lay the boy's body to rest within his lover's coffin, making sure the two boys arms are wrapped around one another in a final, eternal embrace. As the people lay the coffin in the grond once more and return the dry soil to it's place, the sky cries tears of pure, untainted sorrow and remorse. The sweet drops of heaven's love mingle with the peoples tears as they regret their taunting of the boys and as they walk away, wiping tears from their eyes all the while, they do not see them. The wolf boy and his lover. The other small wolf boy, who was tragically murdered by the Raven at the young age of 19 sat beside the younger upon their now shared grave. Over the years, the landscape changed and the people came and went. Yet as the graveyard faded away around it, the boys shared grave flourishes with flowers. In the dead of night those who wander near enough say they have seen the forms of a pair of wolf boys sitting on that grave, kissing tenderly from time to time and watching the silver moon. Others say they have heard the familiar sounds of lovemaking but none have seen the boys at these times. They are together eternally on the other side and they are content to remain where they lay until the end of time, loving one another and watching the moon together. A tragic love story I know but this is the tale of my oldest brother and his lover. I will always remember them both fondly and I will protect their gravesite as the people go about their daily lives and ignore me at my chore. Perhaps someday you can come and see them for yourself and understand why I am so fond of protecting them.
 Requiem of Whyspers · Tue Apr 17, 2007 @ 06:02am · 1 Comments |
