The deep blood stained pit in the conscience, the endless rivers of red. Trials upon trials of fire. There is no turning back and there is no crawling out.
There is only through. There is only one path.
There is only scorched flesh on your outsides and boiling fluids on your insides.
Charred and ashen, melted and blistering.
Nothing left now but a soul mutilated. Nothing left now but the void.
The void, surrounded by flames, nothing else to fill it.
The void, soaking up the oxygen.
The void, now burning bright.
Brighter than the flames that engulfed it. Brighter than the mere ember it was.
Only that which matters will find it's exit into the world.
Only The Fire.
Only the light and the shadows it births.
Only the shadows and the light it contrasts.
The inconsumable fire.
The Undimmable. The Unsmotherable. The Unrelenting.
The Endearing and The Spiteful.
There is no man, no force, no beast, no wretch on this earth that can cease this blaze.
Let them make an attempt, lest they be set alight.
Let them try to impede, lest they be transformed to cinders.
Burn bright their bodies will, because burn bright this soul does.
Burn bright. Burn bright. Burn bright.
