Not monetarily, no. It is in melancholy and desperation. It is in loss and inability to hold the light. The movement is somber and wicked. It is a shroud that envelops me.
Yes, I am affluent in ash. I am abundant in self-antipathy.
I walk in shadow.
I seek the benevolent and healing hands of those who could once look upon me and still smile. They have passed into the lit realm of fancy. They have walked through the veil into the boundless sky where they can float freely. Penumbral responsibilities lay undone.
Countless shades and tasks keep me here. Mostly from my own ego. The copious amount of pride in walking the border between the knowing darkness and the unknowing light on the other side of the veil. I've made my home here. I retreat to it. It is my horrid comfort.
It was not always like this. This cornucopia of dread and insignificance was not as infinite as the moonless and cloud-filled night.
Once there was exuberance.
In the time before. In the time when I was I, and she was she. In the time with us there was song.
She was my foison, I her jocular hero.
We braved the highlands and the deep cairns. We ran rampant along the broken walls and deep fields of grass. It was a time of laughter and love. The stars were jealous.
Her hair was honeyed mead. Her eyes, bluebells.
We would gather the myriad of herbs and hunt the numerous game. We built and farmed. We were shepherds of joy. We reaped happiness. We had want for little as we had each other. She, as wholesome has heather, soon lead me towards the path of fatherhood.
For six joyful winters the three of us were together. I taught the boy how to track and to work in stone. I taught the boy how to live.
Upon the seventh, a profuse blackness surrounded him. He had gone far and away off of the known paths. He went into the woods.
The bleak winds were not prosperous as he came out of the copse of trees. It was black and foul. It had the smell of magick and ill tidings. A murderous band of hooded crows had plentiful wings on that wicked wind. There was no doubt, a witch placed a mark on him.
Her wart-ridden hide came out of the forest behind him. She had a surfeit collection of souls around her twisted frame bound in teeth and wood. Her eyes chilled the air. I was thankful for her bargain in the end. To save him, I now walk in shadow, behind the veil.
Special thanks to those over at @Slam_Words for the prompts.