In His Name, For U
We, without you, go on as if we are living, but in reality, our bodies lack a true soul. Our silence is a gut-wrenching cry, one that the heavens themselves can barely withstand, let alone the deaf and mute beings with two ears who surround us. Constantly, we find ourselves fleeing, separated from each other, and utterly blind.
We took up the pen with blood as ink, and we willingly embraced pain. Our gaze is blind, our voices silent, our steps crippled, retreating backward. The souls of those closest to us are worn out, empty of trust, carrying the weighty burden of the heritage of the here and now.
You know the chain-weavers, the rogues. They are ever eager to enforce the decree of slaughter. They wait, never satisfied with merely tarnishing you, seeking gratification only when they can smirk in contempt at what they lack, soothing their hollow hearts. Their souls’ womb carries decay, ready to strike against anything greater than themselves. The final end of all things remains stranded in the core of time, and that is enough.
The mere fact that you have sight in the world of the blind is enough.
Stay with me; this story continues…
Moment 61
