Flame's Meditation

Merely a single day before the fall found mind bound by thoughts of wonder and love;

wholly for the world,

and finally, for himself…

And as the coined may state…. “Love is Blind.”

Or, did it cause blindness? He wouldn’t know.

Such assurance never known in any time before could keep his heart trapped.

Not anymore!

No thought of another. No thought of the past. No doubt in what the future held. For love couldn’t fail.

“And though love couldn’t fail, It could be failed!”, scalded the morning as its poisoned word seared through the darkest cortex’ of his already calloused mind.

Within an instant, everything was understood, and nothing was understood,

and the only thing that stood between him and understanding,

he had been standing under

(every time).

And after the rain had finished falling, and as the new moon waxed,

expelled from everything familiar, he clutched with white knuckles onto the split fringe of reality’s last thread as it whipped him into, and simultaneously spit him out the mouth of its event horizon.

Searching for anything familiar, he cried out in desperation to an overcrowded void,

listening for the slightest response within the echoes,

squinting for a glimpse of anything beyond blinding reflections.

And at that moment he would have given anything never to understand what it meant to only begin understanding.

For he had never known another beside himself, Secrets forbade for his own sake, that ever were to change.