We have to be strong, on the outside, always. Eviscerating and ice. A controlled fire. But on the inside we are simmering, hot coals. Growing embers. We treasure everything. We feel sadness within our depths when others suffer. Inside, we are an endless stream of tears. Weak and weeping for this world. For the endless careless suffering of our people. For how helpless we are in all of this expanse. And yet when we look out at the moon at night, we all see the same light. Oh how sometimes I would like to be in its shadow. Blind to all that is out of sight.
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Reckoning
PoetryPoetry & Prose • Book 2 of the Darkness & Light series • Kind of a chaotic, dark work of poetry and prose. Reckoning is the burning down of worlds, the blurring of the lines between darkness and light.
