I stare into the dark of the great crevasse,
Remembering where I came from,
And wondering why I’m here again.
Sat upon the unstable edge,
That threatens to swallow me up in a moment.
I feel the Light on my back,
Fingers like flame tenderly resting on my shoulders,
but burning like a forest fire,
That consumes the gnarled underbrush,
And makes way for new growth.
The dark beckons me in,
Promising an end to the searing pain,
And a life of carelessness,
The Id free to run rampant,
Free to fulfill its pleasures.

“Why should you care?”
The beast in me asks.
“There is no reward for goodness.
All men live and die and are buried,
Bodies cast into the darkness from whence they came.”

The Light waits.

“You have spoken truly,” I answer the beast.
“Goodness has no reward.
For goodness done for gain is not.”
The beast answers, “Then cast yourself in,
Escape the Light that boils your flesh,
And keep not the pageantry of a gain-less life.”

The Light waits.

“I can not do as you have said,” I answer.
“The Light will follow me as I go down,
Illuminating the darkness for to,
At a word,
Lift me up again.
Twas an ancient promise made to me,
Before even the earth was made.”
“Ha!” the beast laughs.
“A promise? Nay, a sentence!
See how the fire threatens to consume you!
Feel the pain as it eats away at your very being!”

The Light waits.
Ever present,
Ever patient,
An overwhelming strength never used,
A promise never broken.

“Will you feign compassion for me?” I ask the beast.
“For the thing that burns is not the vessel,
But the dregs that lie within it.”
I turn back and the Light illumines me,
My face reflecting its brilliance,
Like the full moon in the night.
I feel the fingers of the inferno touch my legs,
And a shock runs through my nerves,
As the fire enters my flesh,
Burning out the dark influences,
A cleansing.
Weakness is replaced with power,
And I rise weightless,
Borne up on a strength that is not mine own.
To walk a path I’ve never walked alone.