We ride out
into darkness.
Behind us,
the soft glow
of our only star
begins to lend some definition
to the horizon.
Forward is pitch black.
We used to think
that it was the unknown,
but we know better, now.
Forward lies Death.
A grim reality,
but one we are well acquainted with.
Along our trail,
we have seen him,
lurking in shadows,
or bathed in daylight,
laying his hand on
whomever,
whenever he pleases.
We used to be afraid
when Death was near.
Our bowels would turn to water,
and we would quake,
and wail as if we were dying.
We misgendered our fear,
and our shame in it,
called it “anxiety”,
and thought we were
victims of a cruel fate.
We were not.
We still had the work,
and the pain,
and the battles ahead.
The darkness.
In this darkness
we will find the mountain,
the one we shall live under.
Beneath its ramparts,
we will call the valley “Home”,
and we shall dwell there,
side by side
with Death.
Soon,
there is light all over,
but our eyes don’t see it.
Freedom doesn’t mean
that you are free,
but only that your actions
breed consequences
common with the full truth
of the world.
Death rides before us,
and the Sun
burns up our pasts,
until all we have is the mountain,
forever.
HG – 2022
