I used the sovereign of the dark as stepping stones to reach the sky,
For eyes must learn the absolute black to value the brightest dawn.
Through seasons of patient wandering, time has done its work.
Granting me access to a summit I had to break myself to earn.
How many ruins must the soul traverse, and how much gray mist must we breathe, before the long journey finally makes us worthy of her light?
Here in the pale twilight, where souls drift aimlessly through the thick haze, I am learning that the hardest part of rebirth is navigating the blind waiting.
We scrape our hands on the ruined terrain of our own making, exploring the damp rot so that when the light finally arrives, we know it by its contrast
I used the anchor of trapped souls to pull myself deeper, until the dark itself inverted and offered me to the stars
I mistook the wind for a holy breath,
Not knowing the abyss has its own heat,
While every step reveals a deeper floor.
