One day, a light flickered inside me.
It was a white radiance, cooler than a candle or a star, yet a consuming fire all the same.
It was a part of me, that was always veiled but ignited, like the birth of a sun.
It signed my heart, burning a hole in my flesh that felt like a blank white, a bone-coloured void.
I looked around, then across the land, then across the world, then across the cosmos, for what it could be,
I looked in the flesh and its pleasure, and I didn't find the source there.
I looked to the star-crossed heavens and the depths of the abyss, and I didn't find the source there.
I looked into the deepest shadows, the brightest altars, the most painful fasts, and all failed me.
Nothing in the realms of the physical or the spiritual produced the flame.
But now know what it is, and how to quench it.
And without you here to do so, I weep.