The absence of light is rarely seen. It is impossible to truly block out. Even if one tries, it always finds a way. When the moon itself is high in the sky, and the sun is nothing but a distant memory, the world still shines. There is truly no such thing as the true absence of light. Like how cold is but the absence of heat—darkness, is yet the absence of light.
Despite all of this, and while it is never seen, it is often felt.
Darkness. An all consuming void that hides deep within the worst of feelings. Hopelessness. Fear. Sadness. Despair.
Death.
That is what one is feeling. Darkness
As the lever falls, so does a soul.
Does it rise?
Or…
Does it truly fall?
Question.
Questions, without context.
As they fall, a hope that they continue to fill the mind. It helps. It makes it easier to pull the lever. So heavy is it, the hoof that pulls the lever. As if the entirety of the body is submerged deep beneath the water. Or is it water? Blood. Blood, it feels like. Water is too pure. It cleanses. I washes away.
Blood is thicker.
But what do these thoughts mean? Why do they fill the mind? They are thoughts, but are they mine? Questions, once again.
So heavy. A burden. The burden. Held by many, upon the shoulders of one. This is life. As the world sins, they cast them upon the appointed few. Why must the many be guilty? Thus is the way, thus is my way.
Each step holds weight. Is it because of that which we carry? Or, is it because of that which we hold…
The world is one of silence. Nothing other then that which the one makes themselves. Yet, something holds our ears.
A crow.
Such smart creatures. Such just creatures. They stand before the guilty, and the innocent. The stand, they feed. Hey hallow upon them the promise of what comes next.
What does, is not their making.
What is, and what will be. That is what comes upon the lever. A pull. A promise. A guilt. How hard it is to fight a way one doesn't hold. Guild of those accused of crimes you don't know, actions one will never learn. But a sentence, one will always hear…
Guilty.
But, why? Why must they lose their hooves, and hover above the rest of us? Is it justice?
So many steps before them. Yet, we travel no where? Yes. We have seen all before. Something new may be before us, yet it always ends up behind us.
Endless steps. Endless wandering.
Mercy.
It's a feeling one always is asked, but rarly felt. The mouth lies, the heart tells true. This, is how we move on. Forwards. Always, forwards.
But…
But what was that?
A memory.
Upon the wind?
It was mercy. Called by one who never needed it… For those who would never get it.
Yes, a good memory. They were lose. They were then sent to be found. It was right. It was just.
Moments…
Moments, marked by a feeling. An ancient rule. We feel them. As they grow, as they change, we feel them. Through their eyes, we see. No longer do we feel.
Yes.
Memories.
A bird. A bear. A bunny.
We feel them. They feel me. I hold them. We are connected.
Yes, we feel it. A darkness that we hold, now shared by two. They feel it. We feel it. They live, they love. Thet learn. They grown. Thus is us.
We shall call.
So many steps, so many crows. A new noise is needed. Too many fall. One, must rise. As the lever is pulled, one must rise. It's far too lonely.
Come to me…
Fluttershy.