Chapter Text
A whole lifetime, as it seems, have I spent drowning and grasping desperately for air like a fool.
What could have possibly ever prepared me for a hand to pull me out?
Decades long, I neither knew I was breathing water, nor was I sure if I wanted to get out.
Oh, my skin has washed away; haven't I been in this honeyed pond of bitter solution life has given me for far too long?
But now you are right in front of me, and the illuminating depth of your untouchable soul is filling my lungs, leaving me to feel like a colossal thunderstorm of fire and destruction.
But if it is for you, I would never want to stop this alluring rage. Rather, would I never breathe again.
None could ever be a light bringer the way you are.
And your light is like no other.
An obnoxious glow gleaming through the dark holes this lifeless skeleton of mine has for eyes.
Gently touching long forgotten mortal remains of what I thought had gone to sleep forever, as all these brittle bones almost burst under the force of your eternal power, bringing them back to life, and an old heart starts to beat again.
For how long have I not felt anything at all, if this is everything at once?
The foul smell of these ghastly entities lurking upon my newfound viability is giving me an edge of insanity, but how did I long to feel.
I'm standing on the ledge of madness, held back only by this scrawny, unyielding hand that somehow belongs to your godly body.
For the briefest moment, in comparison to this endlessness I have endured so patiently, I feel held,
in your stone cold grip while our bones melt into one.
And for the first time, I caught up on never having needed a burning fire to ablaze my soul, but frigid blood to tame the heat boiling in my decaying veins.
Do you espy us above all of these mournful creatures walking this planet?
Have you also gained this mighty vision, as if all existing eyes were ours and no dreadful secret could be kept from us?
We dance to our cursed ballad of disaster. A requiem of woe.
I cannot help but continuously wonder if your ruptured wings are really torn, or if we both have but a single one left, meant to merge, to dance, to take off until sun and moon have at last gone to sleep.