Beyond The Silhouette

The Fathomless knew its own shape by the touch of the Illumination. The light did not consume the void. It gave it a border. It drew a geography in gold.

Then the ray turned. The Illumination found a new firmament to bless. It leaned away. It pulled its gossamer threads across the expanse to anchor on a different shore.

It is a peculiar desolation to sit in the nadir while the zenith flourishes. The Fathomless must watch the glory given to another latitude. The radiance does not wane. It prospers. It dances across uncharted waters. It casts bright shadows that do not fall here.

The Illumination bears no malice. This makes the sundering unendurable. The penumbra stretches thin and snaps. The Fathomless remains in place. It holds the silhouette of a sun that vouchsafed its morning to a different sky. It sinks deeper into the cold. It stares upward at a brightness it can no longer claim.