/It's been 255 days since we last talked, and it pains me to think that only 10 days are left, and it'll be a year/
Emacity. This word used to sound so strange to me. But now, it's so familiar that it scares me, because I don't want to go numb. Yet, I think I am, slowly and steadily going numb.
I have got used to saying I'm fine. At first, it acted as a remedy. But then, it was no longer a medicine for my wounds. After all, people said wounds heal. And scars don't.
I mistook my scar for a wound.
Though, I have also heard them saying that scars don't pain that much when compared to wounds. But my scars do. And it pains me even more when that scar is no one but you.
Our memories, to be specific.
I still visit the graveyard. I see your gravestone, and how each letter of your name is perfectly carved out on the grey stone. It's strange, that at this hour, this carving is what leaves me in awe. Only for a few seconds, but still.
But I snap back into reality as I smell this petrichor. And it reminds me of you. Well, everything reminds me of you, nowadays. And by nowadays, I mean the last 255 days.
I must tell you, you have mastered the art of xenization. You know, the act of existing as a memory. You are brilliant in it.
And quite surprisingly, I have mastered the art of emacity. I told you how this word scares me. And it's because it has become familiar.
I buried my feelings, the day your casket got buried. I buried everything inside. But yet again, your memories haunt me every day, as I go to sleep. And it's the kind of haunt I long for but at the same time, I want to repent it.
It's sorrowful pandemonium inside my mind.
Quite strange, I have mastered the art of emacity.
- Aradhya ***
Ooh, finally. After 2 months or more, finally something on Mirakee. I had my exams, and I haf to focus on them. But now, I am back. And Believe me, ooh, man, it feels so good.
I go to these parties, chase what people call fun, and try to amalgamate my emotions in this drunkenness that all of them talk about. They say fun is all about parties, music, people, mixing with them (sometimes a little bit too much), and taking shots of vodka as every breath escapes. So, I did the same. I went to all these "fun" parties they talk about, and I started on a quest (well, quest is a little bit of an exaggeration) or started finding (yeah, now that's perfect) fun. Who is this fun? Or shall the question be, what is this fun? Will it come to me in person or as an object?
From one party to the other and I am still searching for fun. "Artificial fun, may I remind you," my inner voice said.
"What do you mean?" I questioned back with a glare inside my voice.
"Yeah, made up fun. You have made up fun on the basis of what other people say. Isn't that true?" She asks.
I don't know why but I can imagine her smirking.
"No," I say, knowing that it's a lie, but hey running away is better than escaping. Right?
"Hm, okay. As you say."
She emphasised on the word 'say'.
I am still searching, and taking another shot of vodka, I am interrupted again.
"Oh, so vodka is fun, darling?" My inner voice says, taunting me.
"Why can't you just let me have fun?"
"Is this fun for you, darling?"
"Okay. Can you paint me the picture of the time when you were twenty and you used to go to that lake?"
"Oh, that lake. It was beautiful. The subtle water, the gentle winds, the flowers, and the sunshines and sunsets, everything was beautiful."
"Was? Why not now?"
"I mean, is. Is beautiful. It's just that I don't go there now."
I open my mouth to answer her question confidently. There are many things, you know. Like, my job. This city. The chaos, the crowd. And responsibilities.
I was going to say this, but then I realized, none of them make up an excuse for not going. It's just that I have changed. This new city changed me. And I have enough time to search for fun, or fake fun, inside these parties but not for the fun that I once knew. Peace.
"Exactly, my point, dear." My inner self says as she knows exactly what is going on in my mind.
I keep the vodka down.
Take my purse and my car keys. Guess where I'm heading to? The lake, the water, the flowers, the wind. Above all, I am heading for paradise.
"Now this is fun." She says.
A tear slides down my cheeks and rests on my hand.
I say to her, "Yes. Fun." - Aradhya ***
So, I don't know why but I kind of continued. 'A Conversation With My Inner Self' is something that I can't get out of my mind. It has been inside my head since the day I wrote the first part, you can say, of this album or collection. Now, I wrote the second.
*Jess* //Her lips are pale blue, and her face has no colour now. Completely pale. I knew it then. She left//
She said she has two years. The day she called me up, I decided not to make her more sad. I took out the bucket list that day. And decided to tick all the boxes. Everything was worth it. From going to the most childish places to going to the most adult pubs, we did it all. And today is the day we are going to fulfil the last thing on our bucket list. Going to the Harbour Hill just a few miles away from Los Angeles. It's 23rd July 2014.
The sunset over there, as I have heard from my mum, is the most beautiful sunset we could ever go to. The way my mother used to describe that place, I pictured a heaven. Anna also did. And today we'll go there.
We take out the car keys, and ride there as we hear Charli XCX's Boom Clap. Her voice is just amazing.
We reach there, and believe me when I say this, it's heaven. Much more than heaven, to be honest.
We spend a lot of time over there, until the sun sets and a beautiful pink garnished with a little bit of purple covers the sky. It's beautiful. I look at my best friend who is sitting beside me, with her eyes closed. She's smiling to herself. I look back at the city in front of me, and smile to myself.
The last thing on our bucket list is finally ticked.
After spending a nice amount of time there, we decide to go home.
The ride back was very peaceful, as some trap songs played. We didn't have the energy for EDM.
We reach home, hug each other, and go to sleep. I was still so happy, and so satisfied. This is so much better. Healing her, I think I am healing myself as well.
The next day I wake up, and go inside her room. It's pretty late, so I wake her up. Only to find out, she's completely cold. Her lips are pale blue, and her face has no colour now. Completely pale. I knew it then. She left.
After ticking all the boxes, she has left.
The time between calling the hospital, the doctors declaring that she was dead, till the time she was dressed and kept in a coffin, was emotional for me. All our memories were revolving around me.
Her funeral is over. The ceremonies are over. And I look at her face one last time, as her coffin is being prepared to be cremated. I shed tears, but surprisingly I am quite happy inside that she is going away after fulfilling everything she wished to do.
The coffin is cremated. And I walk back to the church to pray to Jesus for giving me such a wonderful best friend.
I enter the church, only to find my emotions to be completely numb on seeing the face in front of me.
My father says, "I know it's been a long time, Jess. I hope you can forgive me." *** - Aradhya
Is it too long? Or too short? I don't know. Honestly, this part took so much time as coming up with how the second damage will be related to her best friend's death was a tricky part. Hard, to be honest. But then, I came up with one. Yay, me.
So, Jess finds out at the end of her best friend's funeral, that her father has come after so many years and after a long time of sadness, happiness, a little bit of suspense. Above all, life. What would happen now? Will Jess be angry at him? Or would she control her anger, and try to fix things up? Will she have questions to unanswerable answers, or would she have answers to unquestionable questions?
What would happen If one day I decide to Just leave it Like that? So easily, So simply, So suddenly, Just leave?
What would happen To you, When you get To know I Have left without A warning or Without a message Just like a Speck of dust In the air Lost somewhere in The hidden atmosphere? Love, will you Be mine? Or will you Break down?
What would happen If you find Out that everything Dies? Even this concept You find so Magnificent, the One you call "Love", dies? Will you still Be the same Or will you Start acting strange? For the sake Of holding that Love, will you Never go?
What would happen, If these Questions aren't in Front of your Eyes?
What would happen, If you find out, That you have Been blind?
What would happen, If there comes A day when You find out We're falling out Of love Together?
A random thought, just wandering inside my mind, looking for a place to escape. Then I suddenly realized, I have my pen and my diary with me. So, I scribble it down.
Another one. I see another firework in the sky, illuminating this sky. Even the moon steps back, and lets the fireworks take it's place today. Just one night, and after that maybe it'll come. The stars cover themselves in this veil of clouds, and the fireworks take their place. This night is the night I will see fireworks. It was always fascinating to me, you know. Every year, they used to light up the sky and would even fail a million stars in the sky.
A voice within me asks, "What are you starting at?"
I reply, without any hesitation, "These fireworks."
"What about them?" asks the inner voice, more inquisitively.
"Everything, actually. The colour, the light, the way they go up in the sky and bloom in a different way."
"Don't flowers bloom?"
"Yes, they do. Everything that opens itself up blooms."
"Like you did? You opened yourself to that man, when you were 15. Just like that?"
I stayed quiet for a moment.
Then, I replied, "No, that was different."
"How? The definition of bloom you just told me, isn't it what that man told you when you finally had the guts to question him back?"
Yes, I thought.
"No," I replied.
"Oh, honey, you are lying to me? The only person who knows everything about you?"
Yes, I again thought. But she already knows my thoughts. Why is she trying to make me say things?
I started getting agitated. I asked her back, "If you know so many things, why are you asking?"
"Well, you tell me? Did you accept? Did you tell anyone? Or did you do what that man said to you? Kept your mouth shut? It's your little secret with him, right? Did you break the 'secret'?"
"You know what I did."
My eyes started watering up. "What did you do?" She countered back. I knew too well what she was doing. My inner self knows just the right way to make me accept.
"You know what I did," I repeated back, this time more loudly.
"What did you do?" She said, her voice still the same.
"You know what I did, why are you asking again and again?"
"What did you do?"
"I did NOTHING!" I shouted. The fireworks stopped.
I broke down.
She said, her voice still calm, "3 years. 3 goddamn years and you still haven't told anyone. From 3 years, he comes and lays his filthy hands on you, and you still haven't told anyone."
"Is it a question?" I asked her.
"No, honey. It's not. It was a question I kept asking in some way or the other but you just shrugged it off. Now that you have accepted, I'm telling you the truth."
"What do I do?" I asked, feeling helpless.
"Oh, darling, I am a part of you. If you are feeling helpless then I, too, will feel helpless. I am just here to make you realize the shit you have gone through. Not to give you solutions."
"So, why are you even talking to me?"
"Because everything in this world won't last. The day you die, I'll die too. That's painful. But you know what's more painful, if I die first. Then what will happen to you? Many guys might come to you and tell you another definition of 'bloom' and you'll start living with that definition. And it might be excruciating to listen to this, but I am breaking apart piece by piece. I am telling you to save me. Save me, and don't let me die."
She stayed silent. She has gone now. The fireworks started again. It was as if they stopped because they wanted to give us some space.
She gave me a message. I go downstairs. I hold my mum's hand.
"I need to tell you something," I said to her, sitting beside her.
"I love you. Go ahead," said my inner voice.
"So," I started saying.
As I narrated what had happened, my mum was in shock. A trustable man often cheats in a bad way. I broke down.
And my inner voice, well she said, "Thank you. My wounds are healing."
I hug her, and I finally smile.
I say to my inner self and to my mother, "Thank you, and I love you." - Aradhya ***
"Hey. Come save me. I need you. I need to tell you something," I said to her.
I put the call down. And I looked at the rope that was hanging from the fan. I felt broke. I felt stupid. All these years, I handled Jess. And in this handling, I forgot how to handle myself. I am one tough woman. But the doctor's report started tearing me apart.
It was 20th September 2005. I came back home to find out that Jess's mother had died. She was like a mother to me, as well. After my parents died, she kind of helped me get through all the hardcore shit. And then, her death became a heartbreaking news for me. But it was more agonizing to Jess. You see, her mum was like a saviour for Jess in hard times. She was like a person who held Jess perfectly. Well, I was also there. But losing one of us, it started breaking her apart.
And I thought, how can I show her my doctor's report? How can I possibly tell her that I, too, will die? It would be so torturing to her. So, I kept the news to myself. And held her when she was sitting on the floor covered with photographs. As soon as she saw me, she came and hugged me so badly. How? How can I tell this girl that I will die? That God has another fate for me which is already decided? How?
I carried her. Throughout this journey. One day, I saw her father drinking. I saw smashed pieces of the mirror that Jess's mum had gifted him. It was so painful to watch. I thought telling Jess to talk to him would help both of them. But it tore her apart more and more. And there was this wound turning into a scar. I knew I had to stop from making it a scar.
Wounds can be healed. Scars can't.
There was this one time when I was vomitting in the washroom, and she saw me. She got all worried because she usually gets scared of health issues. She feels like that person will die. And seeing that fear in her eyes, I knew I couldn't do this. That day started breaking me. My heart sank when she ran away from me after seeing my terrible condition. So, I ran after her. She closed her bedroom door and I could hear her smashing things. I was horrified. I can't tell her. I can't. I won't.
I made a joke from outside and said to her that I'm alright. The more I said I wasn't going anywhere, or the more I lied, the more I broke inside. She finally opened the door. And asked me, "You really aren't going to leave?" I hugged her. Assured her. "No, I'm not going to leave you," I said to her, and she smiled. I cried.
That day, those hours, those minutes, those seconds, everything was painful. Painful doesn't even begin to sum it up.
And today, I was going to kill myself. Because I couldn't see her break down when she would get the news. I just couldn't watch. But how can I possibly expect her to be a little better after knowing that I have died on my will? That I killed myself? No. And today she said to me, "I love you, and I'm always here for you."
The words I needed to hear for such a long time. And I felt so bad. So, I called her up and decided that I would tell her everything.
She came to my home. And hugged me tightly. I told her everything. I won't narrate the whole story. It would rupture me.
When she heard this, she cried a lot. But then, after 20 minutes or so, she looked at me and told me that she loves me. And that we would do all the things that we wished to do when we were younger.
I said to her, "The doctor said that I have two years."
"Okay. Guess leukaemia gives you enough time to fulfill your bucket list. Let's do all the things now. Shall we?" She said, giving me the most affirmative smile. The most satisfying smile ever.
We took out the bucket list we made. It was time to start ticking all the boxes. *** -Aradhya
Back with the third part. Honestly, this part took some time as I had to completely immerse with Anna, who is Jess's best friend. Actually feel all the stuff she was going through. How she was breaking apart when she was gathering Jess. Everything. Some of the things came in my mind, but I just couldn't explain those feelings. Anna is a fictional character but still, she holds a place in my heart. So, the narration in this part if of Anna, to let all the readers know what she was going through. What would happen when she dies? And is the second damage related to that?
"Like a small boat On the ocean Sending big waves Into motion Like how a single word Can make a heart open I might only have one match But I can make an explosion
This is my fight song Take back my life song Prove I'm alright song My power's turned on Starting right now I'll be strong (I'll be strong) I'll play my fight song And I don't really care if nobody else believes 'Cause I've still got a lot of fight left in me Know I've still got a lot of fight left in me"
Fight song, Rachel Platten.
Firstly if you haven't listened to this song, then LISTEN TO IT. And then move forward.
P.s. read part wise. Second part in BG.
Come on, let's peak into this year's activity and how my year was. It's going to be quite boring..... But this post is for me. A dedication to me.
JANUARY- I completed the book, 'the kite runner' on 13 January in a single day. I was quite angry at my parents who refused to take me to the book fair because of the high pollution there due to construction.(but now I know their intention like always was good). I completed many novels using the app Anybooks.
FEBRUARY- I am in home for the whole month. Preparation for boards. All the kids are fed up of revising the same syllabus for the umpteenth time.
MARCH- Mission: Boards. Aboard Truth be told I wasn't really nervous or apprehensive, while most of my friends were feeling quite opposite. I mean it's not the end of the world right? Exams are just part of life. Sometimes life gives you exam and sometimes school authority, the university and so on. It went well btw. The first exam was of Maths, obviously my favorite subject (eye rolling of course) I penned a lot of poems, 'comparison' which I had posted long is one of them. I joined mirakee on 20th March because I had seen the status of the same friend who I had forgiven. But it didn't capture my attention and after gaining 81 followers within few days, on Holi I left this app. I needed to delete this account but those days mirakee didn't use to have delete your account option. I deleted all my posts and thought never to return here. But fate had better plans for me.
APRIL- MAY- JUNE I welcomed my three month vacations with open embracing arms. It was great. No need to study, just read, write, enjoy, play and do whatever you wish. ❤ No stress. I enjoyed my vacation wholly. I went to my hometown along with my family. My friends had joined their respective coaching classes(I didn't, because neither I want to pursue medicine or engineering). To assuage my ennui I rejoined this app, to test my writing skills. Personally I didn't feel my writings were up to the mark. I saw that my previous account was still intact, gangotri_0608. So I began my voyage again. I met somebody here. And because of that someone I stayed here. If I hadn't I wouldn't have been present to write even this. I made many writers friends. Candy floss, Zia and many more. Words_warrior
AUGUST- My birthday month. I got more than 500 followers. Day by Day my writing got better and better. The experience was very enriching. I too had the list of my favourite writers. Nehahemaraj, dusky_dawn, Priya Kaur, branthan, Due to personal reasons I made another account.(the first one was deleted in early October this year.)
SEPTEMBER- OCTOBER It was alright. Class 11 is insanely tough. Life was smooth. I got to know that I actually liked(liked is a small word) that somebody for whom I had stayed here. But then I cut ties somehow as I felt it wasn't right at all.
NOVEMBER Okay-ish month. I was at home that day( that day I had taken holiday due to some reason, so it was a pure coincidence that I was home). It was 15 November that day. You had tagged me your posts. I remember that post of yours very clearly. Unknowingly and somehow uncannily (you were a beginner) you reminded of what I felt when I had joined this family. I sensed the potential you had in you. But you were clearly distressed. And I thought that yes I might help him. He conspicuously needs it. And the best conversation you could ever have will be with a stranger. I never could predict the consequence of that action. (Normally I do) I kind of encouraged him to tell what's troubling him so I could help him to help himself. ( I myself had been quite sad those days before I had cut ties with that person) but helping others always made me forget mine. I thought of my job as his guide. And nothing less, nothing more. He just needed to put a lil magic of his heart and efforts and I knew he would surely reach the zenith. I told him to manage his time regarding usage of this app. And fix his time, time management. And which he didn't ofc. I had actually believed he liked somebody here. Of whose truth I got to know. When someone helps you, you don't focus on what the help says, you just focus on the provider of help and that is one problem of our generation, folks. November went pretty well. I tried my best to remain a guide only to that someone and nothing more. I tried my best not to get him attached to me, or me getting attached to him.
DECEMBER December was absolutely grand. My life was superb. I attended self defense program at my school. This year I had participated in social science exhibition (for debate competition) and during the later half of December I had to go to the INSPIRE internship program which is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I made friends with one of my classmates there (only 5 students of our class were present). She is the most cheerful happiest person the most smiling person I have ever met. For 5 days, 13 hours with her I just used to laugh frequenly smile all the time, the professors were so intellectual (plus the director of IIT-Delhi). She and I both enjoyed each other's company. And all I could, and she too, was why we didn't talk before (she is my classmate)
And then in continuation of this post is that one. 29/Dec 2019. Which I wrote using collaboration of a post of A.(haven't read it? Ask me to tag you I'll for sure.) I was feeling like a pressure cooker
But then Yesterday. 30 DEC 19 I talked to someone yesterday who brought me an epiphany. And I forgave that person. Maybe I was angry because I had become attached to that somebody. More than what I could possibly ever predict or realise. Maybe he was the reason I was smiling so much. But I had gotten sad. I forgave him. I don't expect the same from him. That's his choice really. And I got to know something. Hating someone is the worst thing that can happen to you. Hatred sorts of makes you empty from inside. It eats you. It makes you so infective. And it spreads. And rightly said by someone I don't want cancer here right?
31 DEC aka final day of 2019 I feel quite refreshed and rejuvenated once again. I got my peace of mind back. I helped my parents and brother clear the clutter of our house. I bought the ingredients to bake cake. I did some parabola and hyperbola questions. I baked cake. My father made fried rice. And now we are going to have it, soon.
This year I don't have any major new year resolutions I just wish to wholeheartedly smile. And live like there's no tomorrow. And laugh like I used to, with that friend of mine. I wish to make a book of new words filled with rich lexicons.. I will stick to mirakee till March. After that comes my 12th standard. I don't wish to become attached to anybody.
And listen to a lot, lot songs(especially Bollywood ofc, not himesh reshmiya again )
After dinner: my mind is calm.
Humans are so strange. Aren't they? They are just so helpless. They are so hopeful. They latch themselves to any bright positive thought or notion so quickly. They hurt people, and they feel remorse. Humans are beautiful. It's just their greed that makes them malicious. Greed for material things, greed for love, greed for attention, greed for knowledge, greed for anything. I really hope humans identity this flaw of theirs. I don't have much to say. Because you know it. Even if you don't, then just glance inside you. You have so much power, fire, and beauty in you. That thought is almost revolting and stunning at the same time. I really hope you focus on your weaknesses and convert them into your strengths. And you know what? I really believe you can do it. Yes you can. There's no doubt. You can. You're worthy. You're beautiful. And you know what? Talk to the person who makes you smile and happy. No matter what, don't ever lose that person.
And to the person about whom I've written. I can only say this. I'm Sorry. I'm sorry for everything the world made you suffer. I'm sorry for everything. But dear you, you deserve this world. You deserve to live. It's okay if all you could do was survive this year. But yes. You can do it. I believe you. There's this one person who I don't deserve. And that's you, you yourself.
If you don't believe me, glance into the mirror and just ponder over this all ❤
Terrible yet pretty All at once You watch the Rain fall down Like colourless mist The window pane Is fogged up By your breath These walls are Stained with stories And the floor Flooded with secrets Of those who Once called these Rooms their home.
You think about The girl sitting Near the sea With a rusted Smith Wesson in Her gloved hands Waiting for the Sun to die To gun down The screaming waves She learned to Walk in darkness Until she herself Became the shadow.
You don't know If salvation is Given to those Who wait for The first glimpse Of morning light To wash away Their sins, but You do know How thin the Line is between Despair and hope And more importantly How easy it Is for that Line to crack.
Answering is easier when there are no follow up questions. when the other person isn’t here anymore.
in stories and poems you can confess the biggest truth and get away with the crime.
i confess - i love you. because, it wasn’t specific. it wasn’t supposed to be easy. it was one of the better things i felt this year.
you had asked - why me?
i wish i had an answer that made sense to us both. an answer that was both logical and simple.
but you because - i let my guard down. but you because - there was deep gentleness. but you because - you are true. but you because - i didn’ think i would love someone again this quickly. but you because - you are something special.
but all lovers are fools. i knew it wasn’t going to be easy between us. you’ve never been in love. and i’ve been in love a few times to know, it wouldn’t last. but all lovers like to be hopeful that a kind of love is out there that lasts. maybe it’s mine.
maybe, the poets are wrong and love is not some remedy to loneliness. it’s just a drug and we all overdose on it.
when you had said, i’d rather become a poem than a poet neither of us thought this is how it’d be. not being a poem of love. __ Via Instagram #Thescribbledstories @writersnetwork
Omens //Magical. Aren't they?// They exist. They occur. And then disappear. Kadota is their art, do you have the art of interpreting their brevity. Can you see their mangata? Can you smell their petrichor? You really don't need to be a philocalist for this. Omens can give refuge to a lorn identify.
What meaning to you attach to omens?? For me they are the language of the nature to indicate the correct path for us.
I heard footsteps in the front yard, and some rustling of leaves.The front yard is full of dried leaves, but the gulmohar stands in the middle; majestic, yet barren. When I was a child, I used to call it the 'flame tree', and that's what my father used to call me, 'Flame'.
The footsteps are getting more evident, and in all honesty, it sounds like my father's. The footsteps falter in between, like he stopped to pick a dorsoventrally flattened leaf. The footsteps are taken cautiously, and it reminds me of when I was younger, and my father would sneak in from behind and surprise me with a Cordate leaf, and I would run to my room to keep it in the box where I collected them.
I put on my rumbled antique maroon sweater, and it reminds me of my mother. It was her favourite sweater, gifted by my father. Everytime she wore it she looked like an angel, hence father calling her angel in his songs was always justified to me.The dining table near me, reminds me when I was fourteen, and asked for to borrow the sweater. My mother handed it over to me happily saying, 'My little girl has grown up.'
The doorbell rings, and I run to open the door. Just like I did when I was younger, to open the door before Drish. And this time I win, since she is not here.
I pull the mauve handle of the door, and it groans, father never got to replace the door. It is nostalgia, he is dressed in a flannel shirt jacket, just like Drish would.
'But we had our last seesion just last week. You know you are visiting me the second time in a month, right?', I ask with a grin.
'Of course I know that. But you are visiting your childhood house. It is my job to visit you here', he says, while walking inside the house.
'This is the last time I will ever be able to visit it, before I go abroad', I say, still stuttering in the middle, conscious of how foreign the words sound.
Nostalgia doesn't reply, he nods his head. I collect my wooden box full of dried and dead leaves. Everytime I hold it, it reminds me of the first time my father gave it to me. It had been so heavy to carry, and now, I can carry it with just one hand. Mother's sweater is already wrapped around me. As for Drish, I will always have her in my heart, and Nostalgia, he won't ever let me forget her too.
I walk to the three burial cross in the backyard, and place the two lilies, on the first two gravestone, and as for the third, I place a Cordate leaf. Forgive me father, your flame hadn't wished to kill you all. It had been a mistake. A mistake she regrets. Forgive me mother, but your little girl has finally grown up.
Forgive me father, but your flame stands; majestic yet barren.