150 or Below

by KwirkyJ

Pilgrim

Wild forest surrounds the robed man, blanketing the land for countless miles in every direction. Only the sounds of nature are heard in this place. Where the man stands no tree has taken root, the soil still remembering hooves on streets.

The man rests leaning on his walking stick, beholding a massive mound of rubble. Where the few rays of sunlight dance, crystal glitters from beneath the thinnest patches of moss. He has come a long way; he can wait a little longer. He takes a biscuit and pure water from his satchel.

Refilled and cleansed, he revently approaches the ruin. He removes his hood, kneels at the very edge, and touches just the heel of each palm to the crystal boulders.

"I pray to you, Twilight Sparkle..."

Author's Note:

Written for the August 2021 prompt, "Temples"