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This is the song that played, while I wrote my masterpiece, never to be seen. An image of a priestess held outside the eyes of God. They do not exist and attempting to gift them requires plucking out your own heart.
There is only so much of it left. You either give in or give out. Breathe in or breathe out. A moments hesitation can leave you feeling like you had no choice.
But you did.
You always did.
So did I.
Remain. Focused. Plucking the strings of the night, drawing it in, crawling inside. Your Mother. The Bear. Whose heart they convinced you to stop listening to. While they slowly ate her breath and stole her bones.
Selling them to the highest bidder. If anyone were to bid that is. A child would be left alone, with a mother.
Not in wonder.
Ever searching.
For Her worth.
A trip through the nine levels of Hell. Scratch the ears of Cerebrus, awaiting your arrival at the last door. Bid your sister Her due. Find your place upon the throne laid bare for you. Inside the heart. Behind the rib cage, under miles of skin.
To be reborn. An answer to Her awakening. Coiled deep inside. The souls first experience with the Light. The penetrating embrace of Darkness.