Redemption to Ourselves

                I felt it, I consciously, do felt the feeling of falling into the divine void, a relic of the “fallen ones” no sooner than the impact of my emotions, crashing into the cold ground just to feel nothing, peculiarly afterward. Only the echo of the final holy sword, slicing the flesh of somebody I used to care about.

                “Take it easy.” He whispered among the many. “You have let me do the right thing.”

                Sword has dropped, stuck into the mud, and perished as he also walks by me. “No!” I wanted to scream, but the fear that my heart was consuming, pulled all my veins and maybe, not so free will, to the long silence. His name was fear, doubt, oppression maybe. He sat on the numerous rocks of the divine cliff, a place where I had never been so close.

                I opened my eyes just as something pulled me out. Maybe to reality, yet might be not. I saw the first snowflakes touching down to the old, busy streets of London. The Candles were lightened as the moon is covered by a school of sinful clouds, only to leave the stage to the Winterstorm. “I have never seen these streets like that.” I muttered as I put on layers and layers of clothing. Because of the falling temperature, frozen ice, or the coldness that the Winterstorm possesses. However, I certainly had never got the chance, the blessing of foreseeing the “Eternal Winter” caused by the Winterstorm. None of us were ready for it, I suppose. Londoners, all, terrified as they watch the last sprout go utterly white. They watch the death of their brothers, horses, fathers, mothers, and daughters just like the last traces of humanity. Only to feel the further cold, maybe freeze in it. Eternal Winter was here and for many of us, it was real. I have been feeling guilty about this. I feel guilt for letting him kill the “One that I used to care about”.

                The community gathered. Established “The Eternity Stove”, which the bright-minded call “The Generator”. Now It feeds us all, heats us all; eventually saves us all from the Winterstorm, as Londoners feed it back with all the coal that is left, found, or mined from the whitened soil. Henceforth, we hoped this would all end, someday.

                Yet, that day is never to come. Now, we see the end. The final notes of our melody. As the blue flashes gleam in the night. Snow races with each other and wind run with its deadly cold cavalry. In such storms that contains the dark which nobody has ever seen in their chaotic cold lives. Suddenly I felt the busiest scream of my guilt, bending me onto my knees.

                “Wake me up!”

                After weeks had passed, I finally heard a muttering just like mine months before, calling for me, for the vivid cure. Strongly persuading me to shut my eyes again.

                “I will, my beloved.”

                I let myself to the very heart of the cold. The Winterstorm accepted me. Pulled me to those cliffs, where I came from. “Listen and feel, listen and feel.” I whispered as I fight to continue my journey throughout the Eternal Winter. My heart was beating out from my cavity as I saw the one, one that I used to care about. Only then, the core has brightened, reminding me of my biggest mistake: letting my fears kill my hope, gratefulness, very desires only beloved to my very soul. For the final moments of my eternity, I bend onto my knees once more.

                “I see you, as you see me. I feel you, as you feel me.”

                “Hold me, for your heaven. Grab, and heat me from this coldness.”

                Thereupon, I had the bliss to understand that every moment we do not cherish, losing the fight against our fears, nor oppression; we condemn and make ourselves suffer to another life which we do not own.

“I remember you, I cherish you. I am warm beside you, true myself.”

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