My Writings

The False and the Redeemer

Love, Your power overwhelms. That’s why some of us go mad. Your arrival is forever unexpected and subtle – a call carried by the wind, eyes upon me, a feeling that I have re-emerged in the memory of a friend, and my name is being sung in someone’s thoughts, even if they are unaware that I ever lived.

My name will be spoken long after the universe dies. In a foreign tongue, ancient, unhuman, with the flavour of every story, in tears of hatred and blind range, in the burning hearts of the lovers, in the color red, and blue, and the complete absence of boundaries. I am the emissary, you see, I am just a guided hand. I am the eye – ever watchful, but my actions are lighter than a feather. I am weightless. I am here by His will and to this day, it drives me still. All I had to do was ask.

When I look into our collective future, I see myself forgotten, but that’s how it was always meant to be. From the day I first stood on my feet He presented me with the cloth of the unnamed. Now you mistake me for someone that I am yet to meet. At times I wish that I could become…

Words fail me again, but how could they describe His grandeur in a human tongue? In the same moment when my consciousness is equally within and without, I see infinity as a captured animal, and I am the cage. And, I see myself – the pretender, the imitator, the dishonest, the false. And I see myself becoming who I was always meant to be, “past” and “future” converging – to make me stand on my feet, and become…

I have come a long way without making a single step. I speak in riddles just to hide the truth from myself. I keep my eyes shut just to shelter myself from it, but invariably, undeniably, it looms large there, in my consciousness.

In my primitive understanding of the world, He is here to guide me. He shows the way, and yet He lets me fall. I feel his absence as if my own lungs were torn from my chest, and now the frozen air brushes against my heart. But, He is still there, hidden, laughing behind the thickest veil.

Tonight I sat down, disappointed of myself, remembering the time when my body and mind were heavy with power like ripe fruit, and the world was salt, and rock, and scorching heat. And I was dancing unmoved, unshaken, yet undeniably alive. I did not deserve that gift then, and I surely don’t deserve it now.

And yet here He is, laughing. Here He is, dancing in my mind.

Welcome, Sire.

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