Spirit

Author's Notes: This is written straight to the board during my lunch hour. The idea hit and I had to get it down or forget it. Basically, I see Promises through John Quixote in my head here. So if this is messed up sounding to you. Sorry.

Disclaimer: Not mine. If it was, we'd have a Farscape channel.

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Spirits soar, riding high at the sight of her.

And the other shoe drops.

Hope and hatred tangle together, the noose they create drawn tight. The road is blurred and you don't know which way is the right path. The edges are too dark to see.

The halls are no longer home. Battles that have gone on too long creep through her pores, the very air. Suffocating.

The answer is here, but hidden from sight. To keep the mind and heart intact, lines must be drawn to protect and guard against the night pushing its way inside.

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Originally posted September 11, 2004