The storm came in. The pounding waves crashed through the otherwise simple site of the march. Who would’ve known it would be so intense?

Even those accustomed to its harsh brutal display could not believe what was set before them. I thought it would be easy. It turned out to b the hardest thing I had ever done.

The storm settled. It made me who am. No, I was already meant to have lived that. It was no accident to be place in that moment, that space, that time.

Denied in the presence of those who would raise me up. I didn’t know love could hate and hurt so bad. Those who should shelter your soul, left wounded and exposed, only to trip on their own sunrise.

And then I met you and you filled me with all, everything, at the same time, yet only for an instant. The light inside your soul is so much stronger than those who stand on the shore and hope to be able to reach you one day.

Even if you only ever touch the surface, you provide a glimpse of what could be, and your saving is worth more than a thousand years of sadness.

The pain is worth the price to feel for even a moment the intensity of what you can provide.

And then we pray to the gods that we survive to live another day. Or may we pray for death so that we might be spared from an existence in which such great love may never exist again.

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