Too long be our days
by Datdamnface
Too long be the days where I get up and go about my life. My gilded soul celebrated and praised by the cherubs I hold dear. Oh what I sacrifice to make them happy. I give to them what I was unable to give my own blood not but one millennia ago. And to this day I still hear her cries. I still feel her tears running down my proud chest as I watch her ascend to the glorious sky. Oh how I envy her, commanding the vast legions of stars to dance and shine and sing and glitter in the sea of souls so blackened to honor the dead. I carried myself back then knowing that I shared my gift with all. Knowing that I shared all I had, knowing that my life was not but my own, knowing that the vast sphere of light was shared and bathed in the love of my little ponies. She however carried herself with brooding airs, knowing that her own spheres of thoughts shined not hidden within the fathoms of her mind but within the golden and gifted balls in the night sky. How I envied the worlds she hid from view, how beautiful and utterly incomprehensible. How no words could ever do them justice for the power they held in very sight spoke volumes.
I have had years, years heaped upon the shifting sands of time. The lessons I have learned are all marred and carved into my mind as a stone mason carves beauty into his works. They are scarred with sadness, grief, and hate as they are healed by mirth and laughter. They are bloodied and torn as they are healed and forgiven. They are the coagulation of my very soul for without remembrance and thought I am nothing.
Happily have I ruled my kingdom, letting personal life not interfere with my rule. Letting want and greed and envy and spite no hold within my heart. I forced belief of true happiness within my heart for a thousand years. Yet true happiness I fear, is a secret the dead take with them. For I have loved, and I have watched my loved ones age and die before me. Yet they never did so with worry, they knew that their roads all came to ends, that some day they would look upon the skies as they ascended. They were contended with their lives. A contentment I could not fathom. I would say to myself 'if it were me in their shoes I would make my life perfect. I would never disrespect anyone, I would make everyone smile, I would be the center of the world for all.'
I still remember the day I was proven wrong. As I watched an old servant of mine pass, a jolly lad whom I had known from birth who now walked towards the cold embrace of death. I asked him "if I gave you a second chance, would you do it all again? Would you change anything? Would you ever make yourself better?"
He said to me "no. I am exactly as I was ever destined to be. I have traveled my own path. A path that, I was, and always will follow. I will not change anything, for every single thing that has ever happened to me has happened to make me who I am today. And though the winding and shifting sands of time, I walk the clear road. I will, and shall, forever remain as I am."
What did he mean? Why did he say this? Surely if one had the time one could make perfect themselves! Why do they all desire such pitiful lives?!? Why are they so content to just go about their lives? Why are they so content to strive for what has already been achieved? Why are they so content to just smile? Why do they not try and comprehend the vast magnitude of life and love and everything?
Why do they not become....more?
Why must the sun move as it does? Why must the stars glitter and be shunned at night? Why? Does this all happen for a reason?
Yes. A long time ago. I made peace with myself that yes. Things happen for a reason. That I cannot protect anyone. That things must happen as they naturally do. That my little ponies must struggle and writhe in their monotonous lives. Maybe there is a reason.
And yes. In my years, I have discovered the truth about life. The truth about everything and why it must happen. Why life and death co-exist. Why sadness and happiness twist and turn in their endless dance. Why some equines are destined to be greater and why others still are lesser yet infinitely higher in both wisdom and heart.
And the answer is, because they wanted it to. Because we all make decisions, and at the end of the day we must all come and face the consequences and joys of each decision. Some of them may take years to bare fruit, some may take eons, some will never bare fruit. But at the end of the day, decisions, memory, and thought are what make us who we are.
I, the perfect sun monarch. My ponies, the picturesque visage of happiness as I have pruned them to be. And my sister, the image of a shattered smile. A soul who knows true happiness for she has experienced true sorrow.
She who has spend the millennia paying for what she has done. She who has weathered the trials and tribulations of the mind hidden deeply within our psyches. She who looks upon her life with tines of regret.
But stil have I years to live. And to rule. Maybe one day will I know true joy. Maybe one day while I know why they always smile before they pass on.
But I am content with watching my student as she strives to understand the bond of friendship. An endeavor both frivolous and noble. For she has reported to me, as have her friends, that in the end of the day. Friendship amounts to more than just a group of equines who truly know you. It amounts to family. It amounts to smiles and to mercy and savior.
It amounts to never being alone again.
One day, one day I might have friends to call my own, those who have weathered the same tribulations as I have. But too long be our days which we wait for salvation.
