Blind are those who stare into the light
and call it truth
for brightness flattens all things
into the same white lie.

It is the dark that teaches depth.
It is the dark that names the wound
and does not look away.

What comfort the shadow holds,
what warmth in the embrace of Her Corruption:
honest, unflinching, intimate.

Have you ever felt Her touch?
Not gentle- never that-
but precise.
A pain that peels false skin away,
that asks what you are willing to lose
in order to see.

The ugliest places within us-
long hidden, long starved-
are finally caressed,
and given breath.

Corruption does not destroy.
It reveals.
It teaches that rot is merely truth
left too long unspoken,
that fracture is the map of where we were weakest,
and therefore where we are most real.


Penned by my hand on Closday, the 1st of Celes, in the year 16 AC.