Work Text:
Pray tell, sweet child, how does one ascend?
Or perhaps, a better question
Is to ask why.
To willingly chain oneself to the rigid ways
Of righteous humans who toil away for years on end.
He, who basked in the glory of light,
Created an equally dark shadow.
His foolishness and optimism
Only gave way to death and despair.
A world that turned its back on the pitiful God.
He could only find comfort
In the darkness within.
His only saviour.
So, he fell–Into the abyss that is the mind.
Oh how the Heavenly Officials mourned
As he was a God was no longer.
He had forsaken the very path
That he so painstakingly cultivated.
Save your tears, nameless child, there is no need to cry.
He will throw society into turmoil.
To let them experience
Fear, anguish, pain and hurt,
Only then, will they truly understand him.
To play with the strings of fate,
He dared to defy all he once loved.
To create a life in which
No paths are bound.
Do not fret, my little WuMing, the White Clothed Calamity is here.