beaten until mournful.
Across the plains of darkness,
and into the shriveled light,
they revealed themselves.
Reliving their abusive past,
lies and betrayal,
written in stone,
as the prophecies of their kind fortold.
Not unlike diamonds,
their value in the sky,
they brought whispers of the aching,
the burning,
the ravaging they brought so clearly to my bloody past.
When you love you don't let go,
nor did these.
When they reached my hollow burial ground,
like a storm on high tide,
they destroyed my last stronghold.
Crucified,
hung above what was left of my world,
I moved on.
I came back.
The shadowy depths of my hell brought new wisdom.
The light I had seen so sharply,
bloodred,
had gone.
I realized my fateful mistake,
and embrased.
Like a lightning bolt,
I rose from my new grave.
The blood of my crucifixion lay on the ground,
splattered around a faded cross.
But I saw none of it,
focused on the new light.
It was not unlike the sun,
faded around the edges,
but so distinctly defined in the middle.
I drew closer to the light,
realizing what it was I drew a final breath.
The end was near,
but for me,
I learned,
to come face to face with death,
is to come face to face with certain annihilation.
-thestorygirl
