Published in The poisoned well
Published in The poisoned well
Published in The poisoned well
Image credit by Pinterest
Image credit by Pinterest
Image credit by Pinterest
Resigner Luth
Resigner Luth
Resigner Luth
Resigner Luth is a wayward wonderer, a stranger in a strange town. Always writing, painting or just putting on a show. She carries her innocence with her press badge - so she's pretty much an endangered species. In love with the world but not very impressed. Assume at your own risk. Lest you meke an a$$ out of u and me 👩🏫
Resigner Luth is a wayward wonderer, a stranger in a strange town. Always writing, painting or just putting on a show. She carries her innocence with her press badge - so she's pretty much an endangered species. In love with the world but not very impressed. Assume at your own risk. Lest you meke an a$$ out of u and me 👩🏫
Resigner Luth is a wayward wonderer, a stranger in a strange town. Always writing, painting or just putting on a show. She carries her innocence with her press badge - so she's pretty much an endangered species. In love with the world but not very impressed. Assume at your own risk. Lest you meke an a$$ out of u and me 👩🏫
June 16, 2023
June 16, 2023
June 16, 2023
Under your spell
Under your spell
Under your spell
Growing Pains
Growing Pains
Growing Pains
Keeping hope alive
🪝10:15 on Friday morning, thinking of the damage we unknowingly inflict. Holiday weekend, and every loon is wreaking havoc. Now I try to keep my vocab clean but when the day starts with argument?
Cast a spell.
☝️Blame the birthday candles. Sweet memories from my childhood. KIDS do not play with fire. It's never worth the burn.
Not today. Magic gloves are in storage. Bell, book, and candle will suffice. If it does not, there's always prayer. My advice:
Growing pains
I
Once, there was a muse who lived in a forest of dreams. She was beautiful and wise, and she inspired many artists and poets with her songs and stories. She loved to wander through the forest, discovering new wonders and mysteries.
One day, she came across a well that sparkled in the sunlight. She was curious and thirsty, so she approached the well and looked inside. She saw her reflection in the clear water, and she felt a strange attraction to it. She leaned closer and closer, until she touched the water with her lips. But the well was poisoned by a dark magic, and as soon as the muse drank from it, she fell under its spell. She forgot who she was and where she came from. She only saw the image of herself in the water, and she became obsessed with it. She could not tear herself away from the well, and she stopped singing and telling stories.
The forest of dreams began to fade and wither, as the muse’s influence vanished. The artists and poets who relied on her inspiration lost their creativity and joy. They searched for the muse, but they could not find her. They only heard a faint echo of her voice, coming from the well.
One of them, a young poet who loved the muse more than anyone else, decided to brave the dangers of the forest and rescue her. He followed the sound of her voice, until he reached the well. He saw her sitting by the edge, staring at the water with a blank expression. He called her name, but she did not respond.
He realized that she was under a spell, and he tried to break it. He sang to her, he told her stories, he reminded her of their past adventures. He pleaded with her to come back to him, to come back to herself. But nothing worked. The muse did not recognize him or herself. She only repeated his words in a hollow tone, as if they meant nothing to her.
The poet was heartbroken and desperate. He knew that he had to do something drastic to save the muse. He decided to jump into the well, hoping that his sacrifice would awaken her from her trance. He took a deep breath and leaped into the water. But as soon as he did, he felt a sharp pain in his chest. The water was not only poisoned, but also cursed. It drained his life force and his soul, leaving him an empty shell. He sank to the bottom of the well, never to rise again.
The muse watched him disappear into the water, and for a moment, she felt a flicker of emotion. She felt a pang of sadness, a flash of regret, a spark of love. She realized what he had done for her, and what she had lost.
She remembered who she was, and who he was. She cried out his name, but it was too late. He was gone, and she was alone. She tried to reach for him, but the water burned her skin. She could not follow him into death, nor could she return to life. She was trapped in between, in a state of eternal torment. She cursed the well that had ensnared her, and she cursed herself for being foolish enough to drink from it. She wished she could undo what she had done, but she knew it was impossible.
She had made her choice, and she had to live with it. Or rather, die with it.
For from that day on, the muse became known as the Lady of the Well, a ghostly figure that haunted the forest of dreams. She never left the well, and she never stopped crying for her lost love. Her tears filled the well with more poison and more curse, making it even more dangerous for anyone who came near it.
II
So, it remained for a hundred years.
But then something changed.
The muse felt a new sensation in her heart: hope.
She realized that she had wasted enough time mourning for what could not be changed. She realized that she still had a purpose in life: to inspire others with her wisdom and beauty. She realized that she still had a name: Mira.
She decided to break free from the spell that bound her to the well. She gathered all her strength and courage and pushed herself out of the water. She felt a surge of pain as the poison left her body, but also a surge of joy as she breathed fresh air again.
She looked around and saw that the forest had changed over time. It was no longer full of dreams, but of nightmares. It was dark and twisted, full of dangers and traps. It had become a place where people came to lose themselves or their lives.
She felt sorry for them, and she wanted to help them.
She decided to use her voice again: not to cry or repeat meaningless words, but to sing and tell stories that would guide them out of their despair.
She also decided to warn them of the well that had almost destroyed her. She used her magic to create a waterfall of marble that covered the well and blocked its entrance. She carved a message on the stone, saying:
Beware of the well that lies beneath this fall. It is poisoned by a dark spell that will steal your soul. Do not drink from it, do not look into it, do not touch it. It will only bring you pain and sorrow. Remember who you are, and where you belong. Follow your dreams, not your illusions.
She hoped that her words would reach those who needed them, and that they would heed her advice.
She also hoped that they would remember her name: Mira, the muse who had returned from the well.
⨔Fin
Postscript:
Not until the end of time, Mira returned to her homeland. Older and wiser. Teaching the young muses all the skills they would need to survive in a modern world. After centuries had passed, the nymphs found her body on a raft of leaves. A smile on her lips.
Keep the love alive, scorch those wings. When the sun burns, the light of the moon will restore.
Resigner 💜
#justmoveforward
🕊️
Keeping hope alive
🪝10:15 on Friday morning, thinking of the damage we unknowingly inflict. Holiday weekend, and every loon is wreaking havoc. Now I try to keep my vocab clean but when the day starts with argument?
Cast a spell.
☝️Blame the birthday candles. Sweet memories from my childhood. KIDS do not play with fire. It's never worth the burn.
Not today. Magic gloves are in storage. Bell, book, and candle will suffice. If it does not, there's always prayer. My advice:
Growing pains
I
Once, there was a muse who lived in a forest of dreams. She was beautiful and wise, and she inspired many artists and poets with her songs and stories. She loved to wander through the forest, discovering new wonders and mysteries.
One day, she came across a well that sparkled in the sunlight. She was curious and thirsty, so she approached the well and looked inside. She saw her reflection in the clear water, and she felt a strange attraction to it. She leaned closer and closer, until she touched the water with her lips. But the well was poisoned by a dark magic, and as soon as the muse drank from it, she fell under its spell. She forgot who she was and where she came from. She only saw the image of herself in the water, and she became obsessed with it. She could not tear herself away from the well, and she stopped singing and telling stories.
The forest of dreams began to fade and wither, as the muse’s influence vanished. The artists and poets who relied on her inspiration lost their creativity and joy. They searched for the muse, but they could not find her. They only heard a faint echo of her voice, coming from the well.
One of them, a young poet who loved the muse more than anyone else, decided to brave the dangers of the forest and rescue her. He followed the sound of her voice, until he reached the well. He saw her sitting by the edge, staring at the water with a blank expression. He called her name, but she did not respond.
He realized that she was under a spell, and he tried to break it. He sang to her, he told her stories, he reminded her of their past adventures. He pleaded with her to come back to him, to come back to herself. But nothing worked. The muse did not recognize him or herself. She only repeated his words in a hollow tone, as if they meant nothing to her.
The poet was heartbroken and desperate. He knew that he had to do something drastic to save the muse. He decided to jump into the well, hoping that his sacrifice would awaken her from her trance. He took a deep breath and leaped into the water. But as soon as he did, he felt a sharp pain in his chest. The water was not only poisoned, but also cursed. It drained his life force and his soul, leaving him an empty shell. He sank to the bottom of the well, never to rise again.
The muse watched him disappear into the water, and for a moment, she felt a flicker of emotion. She felt a pang of sadness, a flash of regret, a spark of love. She realized what he had done for her, and what she had lost.
She remembered who she was, and who he was. She cried out his name, but it was too late. He was gone, and she was alone. She tried to reach for him, but the water burned her skin. She could not follow him into death, nor could she return to life. She was trapped in between, in a state of eternal torment. She cursed the well that had ensnared her, and she cursed herself for being foolish enough to drink from it. She wished she could undo what she had done, but she knew it was impossible.
She had made her choice, and she had to live with it. Or rather, die with it.
For from that day on, the muse became known as the Lady of the Well, a ghostly figure that haunted the forest of dreams. She never left the well, and she never stopped crying for her lost love. Her tears filled the well with more poison and more curse, making it even more dangerous for anyone who came near it.
II
So, it remained for a hundred years.
But then something changed.
The muse felt a new sensation in her heart: hope.
She realized that she had wasted enough time mourning for what could not be changed. She realized that she still had a purpose in life: to inspire others with her wisdom and beauty. She realized that she still had a name: Mira.
She decided to break free from the spell that bound her to the well. She gathered all her strength and courage and pushed herself out of the water. She felt a surge of pain as the poison left her body, but also a surge of joy as she breathed fresh air again.
She looked around and saw that the forest had changed over time. It was no longer full of dreams, but of nightmares. It was dark and twisted, full of dangers and traps. It had become a place where people came to lose themselves or their lives.
She felt sorry for them, and she wanted to help them.
She decided to use her voice again: not to cry or repeat meaningless words, but to sing and tell stories that would guide them out of their despair.
She also decided to warn them of the well that had almost destroyed her. She used her magic to create a waterfall of marble that covered the well and blocked its entrance. She carved a message on the stone, saying:
Beware of the well that lies beneath this fall. It is poisoned by a dark spell that will steal your soul. Do not drink from it, do not look into it, do not touch it. It will only bring you pain and sorrow. Remember who you are, and where you belong. Follow your dreams, not your illusions.
She hoped that her words would reach those who needed them, and that they would heed her advice.
She also hoped that they would remember her name: Mira, the muse who had returned from the well.
⨔Fin
Postscript:
Not until the end of time, Mira returned to her homeland. Older and wiser. Teaching the young muses all the skills they would need to survive in a modern world. After centuries had passed, the nymphs found her body on a raft of leaves. A smile on her lips.
Keep the love alive, scorch those wings. When the sun burns, the light of the moon will restore.
Resigner 💜
#justmoveforward
🕊️
Keeping hope alive
🪝10:15 on Friday morning, thinking of the damage we unknowingly inflict. Holiday weekend, and every loon is wreaking havoc. Now I try to keep my vocab clean but when the day starts with argument?
Cast a spell.
☝️Blame the birthday candles. Sweet memories from my childhood. KIDS do not play with fire. It's never worth the burn.
Not today. Magic gloves are in storage. Bell, book, and candle will suffice. If it does not, there's always prayer. My advice:
Growing pains
I
Once, there was a muse who lived in a forest of dreams. She was beautiful and wise, and she inspired many artists and poets with her songs and stories. She loved to wander through the forest, discovering new wonders and mysteries.
One day, she came across a well that sparkled in the sunlight. She was curious and thirsty, so she approached the well and looked inside. She saw her reflection in the clear water, and she felt a strange attraction to it. She leaned closer and closer, until she touched the water with her lips. But the well was poisoned by a dark magic, and as soon as the muse drank from it, she fell under its spell. She forgot who she was and where she came from. She only saw the image of herself in the water, and she became obsessed with it. She could not tear herself away from the well, and she stopped singing and telling stories.
The forest of dreams began to fade and wither, as the muse’s influence vanished. The artists and poets who relied on her inspiration lost their creativity and joy. They searched for the muse, but they could not find her. They only heard a faint echo of her voice, coming from the well.
One of them, a young poet who loved the muse more than anyone else, decided to brave the dangers of the forest and rescue her. He followed the sound of her voice, until he reached the well. He saw her sitting by the edge, staring at the water with a blank expression. He called her name, but she did not respond.
He realized that she was under a spell, and he tried to break it. He sang to her, he told her stories, he reminded her of their past adventures. He pleaded with her to come back to him, to come back to herself. But nothing worked. The muse did not recognize him or herself. She only repeated his words in a hollow tone, as if they meant nothing to her.
The poet was heartbroken and desperate. He knew that he had to do something drastic to save the muse. He decided to jump into the well, hoping that his sacrifice would awaken her from her trance. He took a deep breath and leaped into the water. But as soon as he did, he felt a sharp pain in his chest. The water was not only poisoned, but also cursed. It drained his life force and his soul, leaving him an empty shell. He sank to the bottom of the well, never to rise again.
The muse watched him disappear into the water, and for a moment, she felt a flicker of emotion. She felt a pang of sadness, a flash of regret, a spark of love. She realized what he had done for her, and what she had lost.
She remembered who she was, and who he was. She cried out his name, but it was too late. He was gone, and she was alone. She tried to reach for him, but the water burned her skin. She could not follow him into death, nor could she return to life. She was trapped in between, in a state of eternal torment. She cursed the well that had ensnared her, and she cursed herself for being foolish enough to drink from it. She wished she could undo what she had done, but she knew it was impossible.
She had made her choice, and she had to live with it. Or rather, die with it.
For from that day on, the muse became known as the Lady of the Well, a ghostly figure that haunted the forest of dreams. She never left the well, and she never stopped crying for her lost love. Her tears filled the well with more poison and more curse, making it even more dangerous for anyone who came near it.
II
So, it remained for a hundred years.
But then something changed.
The muse felt a new sensation in her heart: hope.
She realized that she had wasted enough time mourning for what could not be changed. She realized that she still had a purpose in life: to inspire others with her wisdom and beauty. She realized that she still had a name: Mira.
She decided to break free from the spell that bound her to the well. She gathered all her strength and courage and pushed herself out of the water. She felt a surge of pain as the poison left her body, but also a surge of joy as she breathed fresh air again.
She looked around and saw that the forest had changed over time. It was no longer full of dreams, but of nightmares. It was dark and twisted, full of dangers and traps. It had become a place where people came to lose themselves or their lives.
She felt sorry for them, and she wanted to help them.
She decided to use her voice again: not to cry or repeat meaningless words, but to sing and tell stories that would guide them out of their despair.
She also decided to warn them of the well that had almost destroyed her. She used her magic to create a waterfall of marble that covered the well and blocked its entrance. She carved a message on the stone, saying:
Beware of the well that lies beneath this fall. It is poisoned by a dark spell that will steal your soul. Do not drink from it, do not look into it, do not touch it. It will only bring you pain and sorrow. Remember who you are, and where you belong. Follow your dreams, not your illusions.
She hoped that her words would reach those who needed them, and that they would heed her advice.
She also hoped that they would remember her name: Mira, the muse who had returned from the well.
⨔Fin
Postscript:
Not until the end of time, Mira returned to her homeland. Older and wiser. Teaching the young muses all the skills they would need to survive in a modern world. After centuries had passed, the nymphs found her body on a raft of leaves. A smile on her lips.
Keep the love alive, scorch those wings. When the sun burns, the light of the moon will restore.
Resigner 💜
#justmoveforward
🕊️
