Eternity on Paper [COMPLETE]

On the Bright Side

Exiled from Eden, I stand in the wreckage of babel, my body bathed in Mother Nature's shadow. I'm an obelisk, molded from a flimsy clay of flesh and bone. Through this blasphemous alchemy, I animate as a puppet abandoned by his master.

In the dark of night, I march towards a far cliff. My eyes are spotlights, enchanting moths to circle my head. I yearn to gouge these cursed orbs, but a spell binds my hands.

Standing on the edge, I gaze upward and ask, "what of a nuclear sunrise?"

We're going to that place again.

The sea calls my name, but my legs don't move. The phantom pain in my hands is gone, and the need for warmth in my palms has evaporated. On this cliff, my roots take hold—the metamorphosis begins. I've become a lighthouse, a beacon for those lost in blue.

Waves crashing against me coat my form in the residue of tears. Each one is a special helix, and mine to keep.

Seraphs whisper in my ears, but I've heard more than enough. The light I emit cannot reach all shores, and through pain I relent. The unspoken will remain as such. The lesson isn't for me—not anymore.

I am my own love, and though the sea will rise, like the stones beneath me, I will emerge, solitary and scarred, but unmoved. Until the day my light burns out.

And by the grace of the Sun, it will burn out.