ouroboros

Stars taking off overhead, launching towards unknown destinations. White trails in the darkness, gradually dissipating. Little breadcrumbs, scattered across the skies, showing paths for the lost to follow.

Joining up the dots in their half-hearted rambles, idling along ways they think they dictate. But once lost, always lost. Forever will be.

Idling along, seeing the next bright bold fire, calling to them and they follow. Their own choice, or something else's? Where could they go, in that dark sky, except towards those fireflies.

Lighthouses on the shores, I suppose, for when they fall to the waves of Earth. Tossing with the tides, blind and grasping, gasping for breath.

A drawn deep, taut inhale, dragging in the air. Giving life.

Pulling on upwards from the coastline, sand harsh against soft, wet skin. But that light, it calls them on the hillside, blinding them suddenly and then disappearing. Hiding away. But those fallen, they follow, they see the direction it pulls them in. And they start climbing.

So much further could they fall. One step by one pull and moving. Caught in another current that tugs.

Light again, blinding. Have you been climbing the wrong way? How do you get down from here? Which way now? Is it really that way- what if you're wrong once more?

But you have no choice, in the dark. Just follow the nearest light.

The darkness all around you, it is different to the skies, the heavens. Less comfortable.

You begin to forget what heaven felt like.

You begin to see the world around you, no longer stumbling blindly along. Trees whistling in the wind, long grass pulling, feet prickled by the undergrowth. Branches snapping, tearing your skin. A world caught in movement. Never-stopping.

Does it know where it's going? Into the darkness.

Keep moving and you'll get somewhere. 

Maybe you will lose the light, and it will lose you. 

Maybe you'll fall upon it. 

Maybe.