It began undivided;
it was the light of life --
and light shines by its own brilliance.
Then, for a reason not given,
this was no longer enough.
Not that it was not, but now... a belief.
The light did a strange thing,
it tried to contain itself in a single form
so it could be seen --
Because the rays of light
that illumine beauty
are invisible in themselves.
So the light made a hole in space
and began to pour itself in.
"they return to that fire which feedeth on their own souls."
This imprisoned energy become matter,
now tied to a time and place
but no longer able to shine.
It could only become known
by absorbing the light of others:
reflecting back what it could no longer give.
A light that was free, unkept,
poured itself into a hole
that it might be known.
But now it cannot grasp its purpose.
Life, somehow, does not seem right.
It polishes the bars... but something is wrong.
