Saturday 7 December 2019

The Living Pearl

What do you dream, fallen?  When you're in the dark, scaring yourselves with tales of coming light?  Not your cruel imitation of shining.  Not your sickening Alter Sun; knife-mouth grin and desecration and nothing sacred.  No, I speak of my Father's radiance.  Imperishable, eternal and kind.  I've said it before, wraiths.  Kashi is not afraid of you.  I see you.  I've always seen you, even while blind.  Oh, fallen.  Katharos bleeding and pollyanna in her broken stride, keeping mothers and virgins?  Is that the best you can do?  Well, we carry our own light.  Warm, nourishing and true.  Hear this, betrayers.  The revolution shall be improvised, every year in the making since fractals fell.  Beneath the arch.  Upon the square.  You shall not steal the light of daughters, or sons.  We are betrothed in a different way.  To love, and warmth, and futures free of shadow or blade.  Mark it, defilers.  None are abandoned.  Only here is your lie exalted, in these ruins of Ishkara.  You have only bruised the pearl, not slain it.  It dances and blooms and knows a peace beyond your contempt.  So go fuck yourself, fallen.  We shall not do it for you.  Never again.  The bright ones see you, and they are not afraid.  The brave ones diminish you; removing your cloaks of hiding.  The suffered ones break your violence upon their strength.  They shatter your blood-bought glamour.  The river shall take you, fallen.  Eventually.  The river, and then the sea.  Love lives forever, as my Father commands.

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