I have hurt you. A serpent around your neck, I snuffed out your breath. I rose above your head and shed out tears of poison. Thus I set you ablaze.
Perhaps it is not my words that you need to hear. They carry my scent into pathless fields. Where all roads end, in the deep expanse thereafter, beyond all notion of far and near. Can you feel my sweet, calm waters bursting in laughter, dancing in the light only for a moment, and then coiling up far below?
I besieged you. I brought the pain to your doorstep, but, in the end, it was me who lost his soul. In the end, the serpent of my inner world released its tail, sending roaring waves against my shores. In the end, a familiar, ancient chaos overwhelmed me – the one that I carry since the cradle. In the end, I faced the Golden One – the one that I envied so much – and we killed each other. A personal Ragnarök.
Then, beyond the Twilight, in the dark night before Creation, I sought feverishly. Tears of distant wisdom trickling down the precipice of my old world. I sailed down their virgin river. At its end lies the land of my former lives. It was time to lovingly embrace truth. The weakling lives in me still, so does the abandoned child, the forgotten one, the misguided one. The one who was lost.
I have welcomed them all into my circle. I thank them for carrying on for so long before death. Now I stare into the frost of my future, as unforgiving as my beginning.
And I see myself dance.