As a child
I knew not the ways of the world.
I could not foresee the inordinate amount
of cruelty that runs rampant
in the hearts and minds
of those we call brothers
and sisters.
We write off our disdain for one another
as “just the way the world is”
“this is what was done to me.”
I truly pity those individuals,
for there is not a cure in the world
that can save their feeble Light.

I saw the suffering
and plight of others
and prayed to the Cosmos
for their salvation,
but to no avail.
I shouted from the highest mountaintops
for the Heavens to spare them from themselves
for they know not what they do
to one another
and all that I recieved
was silence.

And thus, a darker bargain
I did happen upon.
I asked for Wisdom
and in ebony robes
did I become swathed in,
creating the Mantle.
I would bear the curse of this world
to save itself from it,
and so,
I came to know suffering.
I came to know pain
and heartbreak.
I came to know cries of anguish
unto which silence would respond
with nothingness.

And in the emptiness of the self
did I find the answer;
my inner shadow.
From its lips came words,
and these words,
like the moon,
would guide my hand
weaving intricate lines of power.
I have gone by many names:
and miracle maker.
I am all of these
and none.
I am a thaumaturge
and my power
is words.

May your Light uphold Harmony.


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