at the end of light

“What makes man a man? A friend of mine once wondered. Is it his origins? The way he comes to life? I don’t think so. It’s the choices he make. Not how he starts things but how he decides to end them.”

At the end of light then comes darkness. A few dwell in it and fewer ponders on its very existence. As a man, we see life filled with colors and shrug off the hues that we consider bland. We often think that the people live in such manner are the snobs but most of the time, it is the ones who live in the dark who looks down on others. People who embrace it remove themselves from the crowd and and silently pity us who are not enlightened.

I am considered one of the common people. A mongrel. I am no magi. Yes, I don’t understand it. I have bits and pieces of the knowledge but I guess I am not fit to live it. Perhaps I choose not to accept it. Ancient thoughts equals great power. I just don’t understand it.

However, this is what I say… I know you exist. I fell victim to the machinations of your ways. Is it humane? Is it to edify mortality? Wanting something outside this weak being, it’s understandable. Seeking paths to immortality has been around since the beginning of everything. It has been the ultimate temptation for man’s fall.

One life. I will not be able to live this one again. This what makes everything beautiful. The knowledge of an inevitable end. The capacity to make mistakes. To be able to feel every emotion known to man alone.

It is sad that you don’t seem to feel the same way about it.