Ya say yer God's freedom is one that delivers ya from entrapment in the Cycle, from having to cater to the Gods or God who oversee it. Ya say it is no servitude to yer Father.

But is that the truth of it? Aint this supposed freedom of yers but the trading of what ya would call a set of chains for another worse set of chains? In asking for life eternal, yer stripped of the one thing ya so horrendously fear, but in that same stroke yer stolen of all mortal blessings. Yer not made to live, but to continue. Yer not made to live forever, but to reflect forever His own hate for what life truly looks like. Another figurine in His collection.

Where's the freedom in that?

Where's the freedom in yer perpetual obsessing over the unending passage of time, or the one thing yer supposedly free of?

Aint it better to accept that yes, though painful, and often sad, we all gotta die, and then move on from that acknowledgement to try the things ya wanna achieve, and make yer best go at them?

To write yer own story as best ya can, living, and dreaming, and loving, and fighting, and struggling and then, one way or the other, dying, and when that point comes, let others worry about what happens when yer gone?


Aint that the greatest freedom? The freedom to leave? To not be bound as one thing, in one role, in one act, within the bounds of one emotion, forever?


Myrnma,
The Dreaming Bardling


Penned by my hand on Falsday, the 2nd of Severin, in the year 506 MA.