CHRYSANTHEMUM

Creation

The desires we have at heart

Will be portrayed in our art

Woe to whom his heart has darkness

For that is what will abound

Is there a chance that a bad thing can result in something good? Could there be good in the storm that rages? We could say that from the storm the plants will flourish yet this is after plenty of destruction. The elders wondered what the outcome would be.

*

Lyric gazed at his creation and a rush of adrenaline swept up his system. Delight welled his heart and pleasure ran down his spine from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. He was thrilled to partake of that which he had created. He gazed at them in awe. They were beautiful.

Thousands upon thousands of well sculpted individuals thronged the city of gold all clad in jewelry and robes of fine silk. Perfume filled the air, there was bountiful harvest and all were jubilant. But best of all, there was liberty to do whatever and whenever. All the lusts and desires had full manifest in the hearts and lives of the creation. From them nothing was withheld. And as we have come to learn of anarchy it has a mind of its own; something that Lyric should have remembered.

*

Life had never been sweeter for Lyric. He ate of the bread and drank of the cup. The citizens adored him, the ladies were in awe of him. And he all but indulged his senses; touch, taste, sight; he did as he pleased. And yet, in his heart there was still something missing.

He sat in his palace one evening gazing out at the city. He was full and sated with nothing much to do. The sun was setting and the lovely sound of laughter filled the air in the city as the people prepared their feasts. They were holding a banquet to celebrate the end of the day. One would find it strange to constantly celebrate but then again, why not? Is it not what happened in the Expanse? There was always something to be joyous about. It seems that bit of the Expanse was embedded in Lyric's heart.

He headed over to the balcony and stared out at the sunset. And that is when he saw her. Has your heart ever skipped a beat or your lungs refused to breath? Has time ever stood still and you hoped that it would never start again? Have you ever seen a sight and hoped you went blind so that that would be the only thing you ever saw again? This was the moment Lyric was experiencing right now. He saw a woman. Yes, he had many women at his disposal; all of them actually; but this one was like no other. What made her so outstanding one would wonder? Could it be her physique; gorgeous well-formed limbs with curves that made spheres jealous? Could it be her voice; it silenced the most skilled muse? Could it be her hair; as dark as sin cascading down her ebony skin which seemed richer than chocolate? Could it be her lips; red as rain willing and beckoning to be kissed? Better yet her eyes, deep wells of mystery wielding secrets that one only craved to uncover.

It was none of those. For what could astonish a creator who ever so gifted in the art of formation could be puzzled by how beautiful their work was? Who would make a thing and be amazed at how well it worked? Who would marvel as an item did what it was meant to do? No one! Yet Lyric stood spell bound gazing at her in wonderment.

She caught his eye and she gave a breathtaking smile. If not careful Lyric would faint for loss of breath which she kept drawing from him. He gave a gulp as she did a little show for him; a dance that set his body ablaze, that made him weak at the knees; that had his mind swimming in the river for want of a catch of what she was inviting him to. And yet all too quickly she had stopped and began to leave, beckoning him to follow. Had he any inhibitions he would have been cautious. This was his world. This was his doing. Yet he wondered, who was she? For she was definitely not his making.