Categories > Movies > Star Wars
Disclaimer: Everthing herein belongs to George Lucas. No copyright infringement is intended. The dying light line is liberally nicked from a poem by Dylan Thomas.
Never So Cold
Let me count the ways in which I hate thee.
I am kept in darkness. Buried. Smothered. Silent in my dark.
There is no respite.
I am a shadow. Diminished since he stole my love from me. My warrior, my husband. My light.
It is so cold here.
Why he keeps me, I cannot fathom.
I sigh. I do know. He has taken my husband from me. Now, in his malice, he takes - me.
The cold seeps into my bones.
The door opens.
Light spills in, violating my tomb. I blink.
In crimson they are clad. The blood of our beating hearts is on their robes and on their hands.
They do not care.
"Get up," one commands.
I rise.
What is the use of defiance? Why defy him when there is nothing but darkness to run to? The Galaxy screams out in horror at the stain of his presence. He chokes all, we are slowly dying. There is no hope.
My defiance has left me. I died in the raging of the dying light.
And I am never so cold as in these moments. This walk that I have taken so many times, forever to the gallows and back, but never given mercy.
Mercy. It is an alien concept to him.
He rises from his dark throne as our footfalls echo across the chamber floor.
"Amidala," he greets me.
I will not speak.
His touch is as ice, yet it burns as fire. His smile, a rictus grin. The gleeful God of Death. Oh how we dance now to his agonising tune.
He takes my wrist in a cold-steel grip, turning, leading me.
We walk in silence. I am stone.
I hesitate as we approach the threshold of the chamber of my humiliation.
The shadows gather within him. His grip tightens painfully. No smile now, but a hint of anger in his predator's eyes.
"Obey," he whispers.
I step across. Once more, the world is shattered. My lack of defiance shames me. Once, I would have died rather than... this.
Life, it seems, is still too sweet, even for one such as I.
I follow him.
To his bed.
Yes, I know full well why he keeps me.
In me, his victory is complete.
Monster, let me count the ways in which I hate thee.
Never So Cold
Let me count the ways in which I hate thee.
I am kept in darkness. Buried. Smothered. Silent in my dark.
There is no respite.
I am a shadow. Diminished since he stole my love from me. My warrior, my husband. My light.
It is so cold here.
Why he keeps me, I cannot fathom.
I sigh. I do know. He has taken my husband from me. Now, in his malice, he takes - me.
The cold seeps into my bones.
The door opens.
Light spills in, violating my tomb. I blink.
In crimson they are clad. The blood of our beating hearts is on their robes and on their hands.
They do not care.
"Get up," one commands.
I rise.
What is the use of defiance? Why defy him when there is nothing but darkness to run to? The Galaxy screams out in horror at the stain of his presence. He chokes all, we are slowly dying. There is no hope.
My defiance has left me. I died in the raging of the dying light.
And I am never so cold as in these moments. This walk that I have taken so many times, forever to the gallows and back, but never given mercy.
Mercy. It is an alien concept to him.
He rises from his dark throne as our footfalls echo across the chamber floor.
"Amidala," he greets me.
I will not speak.
His touch is as ice, yet it burns as fire. His smile, a rictus grin. The gleeful God of Death. Oh how we dance now to his agonising tune.
He takes my wrist in a cold-steel grip, turning, leading me.
We walk in silence. I am stone.
I hesitate as we approach the threshold of the chamber of my humiliation.
The shadows gather within him. His grip tightens painfully. No smile now, but a hint of anger in his predator's eyes.
"Obey," he whispers.
I step across. Once more, the world is shattered. My lack of defiance shames me. Once, I would have died rather than... this.
Life, it seems, is still too sweet, even for one such as I.
I follow him.
To his bed.
Yes, I know full well why he keeps me.
In me, his victory is complete.
Monster, let me count the ways in which I hate thee.
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