And we took an oath

Not to bleed.

Not to die.

Not to feel.

But to sing and look high. Marching on looking for tomorrow.

All of us agreed. All but one of us should sleep. Never to wake again. to find our centre.

We’d string along our fires. And knot the greatcoat onto the one who would endure it all, with the ribbon of fire.

We wished him well as we said our goodbyes while he packed his bags.

The silence of our sleep meant that for once he’d be truly alone with none left but our great God in the heavens to look to.

And we shot him over to a frigid land to endure alone.

To try and see if he could keep to the oath. And survive the suspension of 4 years alone.

The silence. The loneliness. The locks. The burns. The scars. All tightening fading, melding.

The minds. The strengths. The powers. All melding into one final tool.

2 1/2 years left. And I’m wondering is it worth it?