The chorus cries out upon us, “Bring us your heart”. I hide in the bosom of a young lover. I find my shelter upon her shoulder. We know the consequences, don’t we? I tell her of my unraveling mind. My heart has no room for my secrets, but yours are kept and collected and put in their proper compartments. Their commissions hang on my conscience. The consequence of wasting time is eternal. For it is we whom make the choices along mortality’s jagged road. Always approaching Psalv-Muron does not wait for wisdom to make its place.
I am to go. My sweet Blackbird cries out “If we announce a problem we become the problem.” Where are we to go, if the blood tyrants hold dominion over our sanctuaries? What are we to do, if every second climbs upon our backs? Whom shall we call to our rescue, when we destroy ourselves? No, I refuse to believe that the answer counters what I know as true love. The hypocrites pride grinds against my bones, and my blood becomes like fire within me. Are those whom are violent, criminals? We live in a world of unanswered questions and men without resolve. Pride goes unchecked and lust is turning every eye black. The merciless fill the air with poison, and when they choke, we choke with them.
We recorded the past. Our mind is programmed according to your movements. Our souls seek you out without condition. We are tied together without condition, by nature, but not by the laws of the tongue. So easily we build unseen barriers around those who call for our aid. In our walls we are understood by God alone. She cried out for someone to come in. Thank the Lord it was his servant. But now that I leave, I wonder if my sweet Blackbird could rebuild the walls. I wonder if the SUMMONIA will plague her house again.
She fell in love with my blind ambition. She heard the chorus cry out our destiny. I am just a carrier of the message that is true. I tell you, it came and consumed me without warning. The message came to be called in all times desperate and as I acknowledged what was true, the numinous came upon my soul. My emotions were not my own and my tears were forced out from hiding. That which was unseen dwelled in me and what was inside peered back at her. Our confessions came only in the madness of our risks. I was told of her summonia. I was told how it filled her heart, till she bled from anywhere she could. I was told how the doctors mistook the antibodies for the summonia, claiming her own defenses to be the sickening agent. I was told of the invasion of a blood tyrant and the betrayal of the other. The blood tyrants had shared their summonia with her.
I learned the grit and the grime of her soul. The summonia is all she saw. I saw what was unseen. Her own fire kept her alive. She was shivering and cold and I took her in my arms. What I saw was an saint unborn. And like every seed, she was made with proper nutrition in place. She had unique properties, that should she be planted in fertile soil, shine with such a white brilliance to overcome any darkness. I knew in my soul a match must be lit. The fire must be ignited. She must overcome. Then, into my own darkness we fell. She was everything I could dream of. I forgot that there was that which existed beyond my dreams.
AND SO, I find myself on planet Ringo. A place of crushed dreams. My rage and my lust and my mindlessness tear apart terrain already in ruins. I see Psalv-Muron in the distance. I have been on Ringo to long, I must drink from the waters of DAY. Day, the world I lived on before Ringo.. A world of real food and real water.
The Champ of Angels stands beside me. He beseeches me, pleads with me, implores me. He does so to take back my name. Back to my home he says. He brings me back to DAY. I take his words, which he brought from Aslan’s land, and I wrap them around my forehead. He brings me cold water to wash my face with. I am awaking from the daze. I am still breathing heavy. But that which is within me cries out to be released once more. The chorus sings into my ear “Bring us your heart”. I cry because I am far from home, because I held her as I fell. The young cardinals see. They sing out to me “look to what is held out for you, you hold nutrition inside of you.” They sing “Darling don’t you see?”
Sing, Young Cardinals for my sweet Blackbird. She will stay with you, while I leave for Psalv-Muron. I put her in your care. You know not of the summonia or the blood tyrants. You know not of our slip into darkness. However I can only trust you, for you are within holding distance to my sweet Blackbird, and you know the song of Aslan’s Land. You know the song of that which brings my conscience back to Day. I would stay, and bring her the water myself, but Psalv-Muron will either take me to Day, or damn me to Ringo. We are helpless without you.
Oh Lord. My God of all things. You made the young cardinals. You wrote the songs. You are the antidote, and you are the catalyst. I am not but a man. I know what I know, and I am at your mercy. Break me down. Take me apart and show me which is death and which is new. Let me drink the water from your heart. Raise a temple in which you dwell, so that when I leave, the children can have a sanctuary. Let there be the water from your heart. I pray this for my heart burns for them; A heart that I give to you. I’m sorry; it was always yours, wasn’t it.
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