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Escape the Void of Vice

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The darkened silhouette of the stone blocks that outline the walls are all that I can see. Every night I watch my servants return home to their families, happy and loved. This is something that has always eluded the god of love, Duo Theus. I always wondered what it would be like to actually be loved, to have that security and unbound affection.

Even though their homes are small and they work many hours of the day, they are still happy as they have their love and enjoy serving me. Though I offer them larger living quarters and the choice to leave if they desire, they still deny my offers and continue being my servants. They state that being around me with their families, both secure and loved, is all they need.

Their words comfort me on these lonely nights, to know that I am loved in the sense of a great protector. But I still find myself crying at night to sleep, my only companions are the moon light, cold winds, and the looming darkness. The echoes of my own whimpers cause me to spiral sometimes, with only the the grasp of the moon light from a window to comfort my sorrows.

I look out the window often, viewing my lake in this desert oasis, painted in the luminescent glow of the moonlight dancing upon the surface. It is so calm, so serene, so soothing. This was one of the reasons why I built this palace at the bottom of a canyon, so I know I have a window of hope for these lonesome nights.

Though I return to my bed in this large resting chamber alone, my thoughts keeping me company as I question my own dominion. This room is so empty, so cold, it is a prison of my own soul despite the beauty and thought I put into it. I am surrounded by walls, either that of my palace or that of the canyons; sometimes I just want to break them down and allow the moonlight, the night breeze, and even the darkness of space to be with me, just so I am not alone.

My servants, my angels, my followers, all would love to be in such close contact with me at these times, but it would not be right, it would only be a falsification of emotions to exploit their own mortal feelings for my personal gain. I am not that kind of a god. I will not allow them to be close to me just because they feel sorry that I am in such emotional turmoil. I would if they were to come to me for comfort, I have never turned down any of my subjects as they are all suffering souls.

The tears create wells at the base of my snout and sorrow filled pools on my pillow, sending a small shiver down my spine. I hate it; this sorrowful comfort. I often use my tail to wipe away these tears as I do not want to change my position to lift a finger to help myself. My whimpering surrounds me, echoing off my walls as I continue to wonder why.

Why me? Why was I chosen to be a god of love? Was it because I am hypersensitive to my emotions that I can feel what real love is? My entire life I have never been shown true love, only hate. Yet I know of love, is this why I was chosen? Because I understand more then others of the power of love and all its parts?

If that is why I was chosen, then why must I still suffer these lonely nights? To remember all those I have grown close to; to watch them age, wither, and then become deceased. Always ending up alone behind my walls, either at this palace or another, I am always surrounded by the same walls; the same insufferable nights.

I have everything any mortal soul would fight or give up their lives for. I have control, powers, eternal youth and immortality. I have legions of armies, legions of servants, but I have very few souls to call friends and I do not have the one thing I desire most, love.

Would I give up everything I have, my powers, my life, to gain love? No. Because that would not be possible, perhaps for love, but not to gain it as it would be false. Even then the answer would be a no.

There is too much on my shoulders for me to just give it all up on a selfish emotion. I have a right to it and I always bring it, but the visions of my end tell me that is the time when it will be needed the most.

My vision blurs as I hear my servants laugh and share their merriment in my courtroom. To have such fun with one another, to be loved, all the while I must watch and observe from afar, unable to truly join in and share as my true self. Such are the responsibilities of a god of love, well at least for me.

I can feel sleep coming upon me, the gentle night breeze sending shivers down my back and tail as a way to blanket my naked form. I still wonder, if these nights will ever become easier, if they will ever end

male 676,353, nude 93,152, dragon 85,840, night 8,128, crying 5,910, drawing 4,401, ink 3,539, pain 3,379, sadness 1,013, alone 829, lonely 571, emotional 451, sorrow 226, loneliness 161, palace 99, pillar 52, duo theus 46, lonely nights 2
Type: Sketch
Published: 6 years, 3 months ago
Rating: General

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5 years, 4 months ago
*Tears fill eyes. Walks to him, a warm light surrounds me* Do not b sad God of love, The goddess of Hope and light is here for u. *hugs close in a sisterly hug* I will give you the love of a sister who cares about your happyness."

Sorry just felt bad for the poor guy. This is very well drawn, i am impressed.
5 years, 4 months ago
~The dragon smiles weakly, sitting up in bed "A very kind gesture, but that is something you cannot give without first understanding what love is. After all, the love of a family member is different from the love of a mate. Altogether the true form of love is indeed the same, but when you offer the love of a sister, do you realize what you are offering? I am very appreciative, though I have had others offer similar just to turn on me, so you can expect my hesitance. A goddess of Hope can only do one of two things, either offer true hope, or give the illusion of hope under the guise of false compassion.  Such as with love, often many do not understand what real love is and prefer the false  love or chemical body love.  As a goddess of hope, surely you understand the dangers of leaving one hoping for eternity for something that may never occur. Such a hope, is often considered the worst circle of a hellish inferno, because there is still hope for something that may never come, making the torture all the more unbearable.  I appreciate such a kind gesture, though curious to how you wish to go about this sort of sisterly love you speak of? If these Lonely Nights persist, I will continue to be alone in all my actions."

This drawing stinks (literally) due to all the ink I put in it. Killed a couple of pens, but was experimenting with hatching stuff. Took forever, paper curled, and now smells bad. Glad you like it.
6 months, 2 weeks ago
Really dude you are a damn good artist, that is some amazing inkwork, hell I know for a bloody fact I am just the worse with ink. Im, always needed to re arrange my lines so they never just come out looking any kinda right. Be happy with your art, for I am.
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