Beautiful Death

This song by H.I.M. has proven to be a powerful theme song for the final quarter of the story. I loved it even before I knew the background about the lyrics. First, the lyrics themselves:

Heaven ablaze in our eyes
We're standing still in time
The blood on our hands is the wine
We offer as sacrifice

[Chorus]
Come on, and show them your love
Rip out the wings of a butterfly
For your soul, my love
Rip out the wings of a butterfly
For your soul

This endless mercy mile
We're crawling side by side
With hell freezing over in our eyes
Gods kneel before our crime

In mythology, butterflies can often be symbols of immortality and/or innocence because of their beauty. Sometimes, ripping out the wings of a butterfly gives eternal life. Some believe that immortal souls have the wings of a butterfly. According to Ville in an interview, he says:

So I was thinking, for me, it was more about "rip out the wings of a butterfly for your soul". I was thinking: 'Are you willing to destroy your past and burn some bridges down to be able to step up to the next level, in a relationship or even spiritually?'

Wow. I love this song. I love how this story is coming together.

I had to stop and look to see when I started this blog and this project. July 2005. A whole year. Without a single draft finished.

I wasted too much time and energy on doubts. On other people's opinions. What I should or should not be writing. How many flaws my characters have; my story; my premise; my writing in general.

I'm sick of it. It's MY damned dream! If I don't fight for it, who will?

I meekly stood passive and silent, letting people rip out the butterfly's wings. I believed it necessary and good so I could grow as a writer, while in reality it crippled me. I crammed my wide, flat, size 9 feet into dainty glass slippers so I could go to the ball. They laughed at me anyway and tore off my fake wings, just as the stepmother did in Ever After.

And the saddest part? I truly believed the butterfly was a fat ugly slug, and the dream was just a costume anyway.

No more. I borrowed Sis's kick-ass boots and I'm marching toward the finish line. Leading the way, the butterfly soars ahead of me on stained-glass wings that no one will ever shred again.

Isabella has taught me that some things are worth killing for. I will kill to keep the butterfly's wings safe this time. The silver sword is in my hand and I won't hesitate to use it.

Nothing's going to stop me now.