Dark of the Moon

I can feel it. her. She’s coming. Soon. I don’t know when. Can’t be certain. I never will be. Not since then. I fear these could be my last words. She’s corrupting me, turning me against them. My thoughts betraying me.

I can feel it. Beginning to burst at the seams. My conscience wavering. A balloon in the wind. Able to be controlled to some extent, but ultimately at the mercy of the wind. Those silly little ponies, don’t they know their efforts are fruitless. All for naught?

Let them fly, we’ll clip there wings soon enough-

Yes, I can feel the cold wind they bring, creeping up my hooves. Nocte-Root up a tree. Starving it of sunlight. Draining its life away. taking its skin, and creating new life around it. Stronger, more durable, but at what cost?

The darkness is taking its hold of me, giving me strength, making me whole again.

NO! this isn’t what I wanted! It was never what I wanted. I wanted peace. An understanding of our night. Control of what is rightfully yours…

What should I do about it? What can I do about it? Do I even want to do anything about it….

Of course she could have helped me. Maybe. The little purple one. Although it’s too late now. Much too late for me anyway. And much too late for her.

I’m merely grasping. Reaching for the stars as they might say.
Maybe we should look to a closer one…