Our Hope
Even as I began to suffocate within the darkness of my mortality, I saw that faint light, buzzing as it granted me life. The soft beacon allowed me to a semi-clarity, to see the brown sand between my toes, making temporary imprints into the earth.
The sand was cold, freezing me to my core through my feet. It caused me to be reminisce my weak form - never strong enough to break free, but never broken enough to stay on the ground.
We are cursed to be fragile. Our minds have so much potential to be more, but instead, we carry the burdens of ourselves, of our misery. As I look into the trees above, the breeze brushing the green into the sky, I felt a dull, aching warmth in my chest. Why do we cling to the dying light? The burning lantern?
You are hiding in your apathy, but you cannot deny the light.
Because of the uneasy feeling coinciding with the longing I felt, I took refuge in this little dream I created. Time had stretched on for a cold amount of time, and the sky had remained its drowning hue. The past will never come back: a difficult comfort, and an impossible nostalgia.
But maybe a balance could exist - to be reborn, and embrace these fading scars. Despite a dream long gone, and the void swallowing me whole, I may feel peace - knowing that the past will never return.
I alone light the lantern.
Our Hope was written by
Aequilibrium, with critique from
Ferrante,
ArcheNegation and
Light_Nate. The images used inside the article were taken by