Have you ever woken up only to realize nothing was real? You made it all up by believing some fantastical bullshit? Yeah, I know you understand. This was written afaftethe epiphany hit.
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Written in Sand
Our Mothers warn us against all manner of men. Angry men, jealous men, sad men who love too much, busy men who love too little. But Mother never spoke of the Defiant man. The man who toys with overused phrases, smiles easily, leans in to listen as though he might be reasoned with. What warning could there be against one such as he?
Defiant Lover, I have offered every corner of my heart to Those who Guard the Gates. I asked Them to crush, and scatter it in worlds so remote it could never be retrieved, revived or puzzled back together. Knowing that even an inch of a love fueled heart could birth galaxies, obliterate worlds and set ablaze the minds of millions, They asked, ‘What you want in return?’
When confronted by my silence, They declared. ‘When needed, you can conjure The One Who Loves Sparingly into being. On that appointed day, he will walk beside you like the Ancient God he has forgotten he is. Embrace him as he wars with younger lords and dances joyously until sleep claims him. Allow him to fill your inner being with music and allow the Music to enchant anyone who listens. For that is your Gift.
When night falls, when the wind dies downs whispering of its aloneness, he and everything he is will leave. His eyes that glimmer, his hands that knot your being with desire, his melodious voice that stills your raging storms will fade. With each growing hour you will remember less. Less and less until you have forgotten that you once knew one such as him. For that is our gift to you.’
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