What have I done?

It had transpired exactly according to plan, once initiated it could not be halted, altered, or reversed. The plethora of emotions was almost unbearable as he stared blankly into space unmoving, reliving the events over and over. Unmeasurable was the decline of spirit as he let go of what he had prized, had cherished, had loved for so long. It had finally reciprocated the revelations he had shared though he shattered the composition in which it was given. He was full of himself. So much so that he could not feel the distress, the regret of what he had done, though he felt it all to much also, crushing him, stripping him of himself. All that remained was a flimsy, brittle entity with will fleeting.

He stared blankly into space. Impotent was his justification. Impatience set on. He will not forget. He will long for the day this could happen again. The melancholy. The elated celebration. The wasted effort.

He feels the lacking. He yearns for that which will fill the void to return, for it to be his once more. Please.

Light

Shortness of breath. Shortness of attire. Shortness of other things. Fanciful was his life, his thoughts, as of the moment, much like times of old. He has acquired the gift of realization. For the time being, time is unmoving. Time, stop. Though frustration was at its peak, cognition was at its bare minimum, emotion was at its brittlest, there was simple joy in that mere realization.

The cast shadow on the ground as travelers through space and time ford through the breeze, much like angels... and airwaves, inspire. The new perception, perspective, it was divine, generous. It portrayed the man of his first harvest and that of his last. The thinker, thought but now felt. More so the dreamer dreamt, experienced the wondrous wonder and awe of the materialization. The joy that had nurtured him returned, without dissonance. The order of propriety loses its importance in such resolutions.

He was afraid, afraid of uncertainty.

Chapter X

Then and there, he had discovered the light, preserved after all the transpiration. Regrowth had set in, healing, though the process had only subsisted for mere moments. He had only existed again for mere moments. A forced dissection ensued as his being is placed before all. The ordeal was unbearable as the stabbing, clawing, gnawing seemed to be endless. The ceasing only came after all potential damage had been dealt. He was alive, though only physically. It had rebuild that which he had taken down, it has come back, haunting, further deafening, remorseless. Hopelessness reigns once more as asthenia set in.

The onset of this melancholy could not be offset other than that which has caused it.