“𝙰𝚗 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚛, 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚘𝚍, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎? 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍, 𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝” (𝚁𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛, 329)

How does one remain pure and have desires? How sure are you in your ability to not fall? Who sets your expectations? I know you can’t answer that but I can't help but be curious. Does your soul weigh lighter than mine?

If you’re on the edge why don’t you jump? How scared of you are falling? Does doubting your place in the heavens already mean you’ve slipped from that edge you stand on?

If you ever fall farther I have a place for you, among us mortals. As below you we may be. Here is a far cry from the heaven that you know. But maybe it’s better, I would want to keep you here forever. This place is not pure but it could be. We could, we will, make it pure.

These hallways are not holy. They have something that I can’t describe in them. But it is not something of gods and religon. I know that.