A Journey Of Death

A Message of Death

I do not aim for my words to be morose, but I know they can be interpreted so, like many of the thoughts and memories that Inhabit my mind. Maybe this is simply a reflection of what I have experienced, an innate quality that I have come to possess... or perhaps it is you, who is seeing this to be darker than it is. Revealing your thoughts on an otherwise ignored existence, that small seed of depth that resides in you, churning away as it goes ignored, rearing its head to otherwise never be heard.

Just. Like. Me.

An existence that isn't even able to be forgotten, as death takes all who know me away. After all, you have to be alive, to be able to forget.

I would sigh, if only there were someone to hear it.

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Not many see the positivity in death. Is it fear or reason that makes it so? Fear of an end that offers no control, no path to retreat, a certainty that awaits regardless of any action taken in life. Or reason, the lawful logics that dictate your every act, fastidious decisions to delay a demise as you weigh every detail, looking for what might happen, not what will.

The positive for me lies in the fact that only in the grace of death does life seem to have meaning, a catalyst for species to grow and develop, to become greater than they may have ever been destined to be.

To try and extend their reach beyond that of death, to flee its inescapable grasp.

You must understand, to reach beyond death isn't to beat it, as it cannot be beaten. To reach beyond is to leave a message, a record of existence: be it a lineage, a mark, the faintest of whispers on the wind. It is to engrave part of yourself in a living memory that can be shed and shared, a lesson, a picture or perhaps a story. It is to live through another's actions as they too leave a message.

A message that strives to live.

Who truly wants to be forgotten?

These messages I regard highly, perhaps more so than this record I write now.

For at least their messages were left to be seen, whilst none will remain to view mine.

Even now my looming despair twists my words, colouring them in a beguiling shade, what were thoughts of hopeful inheritances have grown pensive, tainted, by me.

I will write of a particular message one that I will not allow myself to sequester away. I hope you share the same view as me... and see positivity through the actions of a species as they faced an ill end, one that has befallen too many.

It began with a disease, spreading slowly it sifted through the ranks of the living, almost mocking the race of which it inflicted, for all their might they were powerless before the smallest of things.

The named they claimed for themselves, was Xif.

A simple name for a species of complexity and yet somehow, full of understanding.

By far they were and still remain one of the greatest races I have ever encountered, the ruin left in their wake has never been filled despite all the time that has passed. Their planet that was once so barren and bare was restructured by their touch. Decrepit and broken mountains were carved by hand, redesigned to suit their needs as vast oceans were tamed and shaped, sent spiralling into the skies, creating bridges for them to traverse as they built the foundations of their future. Their past homes of nought but dirt were replaced with the air they breathed, soft homes that could change and flow with a thought, offering shelter and warmth to any and all.