The Hour of Emancipation

Grounded, I stand firm and hold this close to me. It means everything and I have built my person around it. It is my gravity, the sole purpose of me. I see the Sun on the horizon rising to take its rightful place in the sky, belonging to the day. By far the most precious thing I have, I cannot lose it. It is mine, I own it.

The undeniable fear of loss governs my every move and I, I am controlled by it. The Sun is overhead, brilliant and unrelenting, controlling the day. I have fallen prey to it, shackled. Comforted by the control that allows me to hold on.

Now, as I stand here, unable to progress, I see the shadow cast by the setting sun in front of me. It captives me, takes control. I relinquish. The shadow conquers the day and I, I hold on. It wanes, disappearing, succumbing to the darkness.

You see, the darkness and I, we are alike. Possession is our gravity, the seed to wasting away.