-A Love Story-
There are times when things become easier and the world's worries and concerns drop away. Light overcomes- and everything that we have ever wanted or needed becomes real- and everything that we have ever wanted or needed is to make it stop.
Air rushes and people who used to matter scream- but nothing matters anymore. Not suffering, hate, grief- or death.
There is no room for smiles or laugher in this world- such things are unnecessary. White comforts, and cushions, and a million arms give you a place to sleep- to let it all fade away.
Balance is as good a purpose as any, justice as good an excuse, apathy as good a state. Power becomes what you are, it embodies you- or you embody it- is there a difference?
Blood hits your chest that you no longer hope isn't yours- hope is no longer a concept that concerns you. The fleshy outlines of stick figures scatter as swirls and flashes turn them into pairs, quartets and bunches.
One of you recognises that stopping is an option, but one is no longer a significant proportion.
One of you sees the desperate fleeing of people you were born to protect, and the lifeless body of someone you used to love, and the useless pleading of someone that used to be a friend, and life spilling out on to the floor.
But most of you just see white, and power, and purpose. Sometimes the only way to balance something is to wipe it clean and start over.
For the first time you see your true destiny. The screaming stops.
