I fell into a hole. It was black, cold and I was very alone. You appeared, as a silhouette; shadowing the light, looking down at me. You threw down a rope. I anxiously grabbed it and tried to pull myself up. But there was no support. And I fell on my back.

I called for you and begged. I cried and you didn't echo back. My voice disappeared into the walls of this hollow. My cries were obscured by the clouded atmosphere. I knew that you weren't there; I knew that you had left.

I clawed my way out. On my own. Without you. I was greeted by the sun and the open sky. And there you were groveling over your shame. I called for you again. But I was omitted from this reality. You didn’t even notice me. I wasn't taken aback; it was only expected. And I did not weep. I didn't waste another tear or another day. I confronted you with my eyes. But your eyes were no longer seeing. So I turned my back on you.

I looked to the beauty of the heavens. Someone else was waiting for me. An ubiquitous guardian. He lead me away from this impossible grievance, arm in arm, into the sun and the everlasting sky. I stagger beside him and never look back. Instead I stare into his eyes. Those eyes that see right through me. And he holds me up as I fall.