Under a moon

I stood under a moon with you.

The skies rained with fire as the earth below us bellowed and exploded. You held me and under that final dying moon, we made a pact to always find each other.

Wandering alone for most of eternity, each angel and anchor would appear when voices of desperate prayer would ask. The question would be answered under a full moon in a Spring Equinox. Follow Mintaka and look beneath the dying embers of the once green flame.

My twin flame, separated in darkness, for whom I searched and craved, left alone and afraid. Our two candles together to make one shining flame to light a darkness that enveloped and choked the growing seeds.

The circle of us cannot be broken - this is a sacred bond. All words spoken so far hold the form of us.

This is exactly where I found you.

Now, I stand under another moon and watch for Mintaka and wonder how could I have been so wrong?

My wings lie torn and bleeding. My breath remains trapped beneath the space between the full moon and the dark. How many tears do I need to cry before my heart finally empties itself of all love and begins to harden, crack and die?

I cry. I ache. I am empty. I feel lost. My vision is impaired. I wish to scream. I work. I sleep. I worry. I meditate. I look for Mintaka at night. I wish upon the moon.

It is the deep essence of me which I fear is lost.
It is the dream upon which I am built.
It is the star I have followed, which has changed its direction.
It is the underlying belief of me which I fear has died.
Where do I go from here without those elements of me?
How can I fly when my wings are broken?
How can I speak when my voice has left me?
The circle around me has fallen in on itself and I sit here in the dark and wait for fate to decide.