Ashen rain and glistening tears fall together in simultaneous harmony; both a result of building pressure, a need to escape… release. Breathe a sigh, one a soft breath, the other a low rumble in the mountain. Holy contemplations of Them, of Darkness meeting Light, a clash and the mutable gray in between. Singing internally a song with no voice, whispered from a torn heart. Multi-hued eyes cast an upward gaze at an eternal chase between the fleeing light and pursuit of night and thoughts whisper in question, “Will my darkness eternally chase my setting light?”

They offered a kiss to a furrowed brow, and yet the touch to flesh only began the touch that branded a restless heart. A compass held with a wild needle, wherever will it stop? Only in intimate thoughts, and dreams, and prayers both spoken and unspoken, does the heart win out over the mind.

In realization and a renewed send of calm does she rise, a shadow of a figure, white robes concealed in blackened soot. She serves both her light and her darkness, taking up no path but instead forging her own. And though the brush may resist her and bid her turn back she presses on, remembering the mount, a prayer, and a soft kiss.

Her prayer: “I will find myself many times over, but I will do it in Your name, my Lord-and-Lady. My heart is Yours and where the heart leads, the rest will follow.”

For Mysrai