A Creative Outlet · 7:11pm
A visitor came to me last night; not the Princess of Nod, but a devil, here to make a deal, just for me.
A deal I accepting, fortifying the material in exchange for the mental, before I walked into the darkness, ready anew to strive against the foe.
Allies rallied to my cause, the battle long but hard won, the devil's gift living up to the letter of his offer. The price dims my triumph, the whispers stirring memories of woe.
The battle won, but the war remains. Questions linger: was this the turning point of the conflict? How much struggle remains?
The devil promises sure victory, and the wealth attendant to success, but the whips of dark shadow gathering tell me that should I let the devil grow comfortable inside my fortress, the Spiral Nightmare may reach out for me once more. And the terrible beast, the devourer of time, follows the devil. No gentleman it, waiting for a bargain to be made, the beast waits only for a moment of weakness.
Saturn and Celestia offer the shelter of dreams, and in a stolen hour I seize the balm of truth told, the crafting of prose and metaphor granting a smile, as these words end this non-fiction.