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Extremities One day, it was a blue, blue sky. The warmth was there, it became part of the hawk. It�s wings had potential in them. They would shine after a cleaning from the recent rain. Today, the hawk would steer away from those dark clouds while on it�s search for food. Today, the hawk would rise higher and go farther than ever before while on it�s search for food. It would find it�s food, no matter where it was. The hawk has black feathers, no one knows why they are black. The black hawk, it wants to feed, it is hungry. So it has to fly higher and father than it has ever gone before. For the glory, for the happiness, for the hunger of that meal. No, no. To escape from the hunger, from the pain, from the shame. Two extremities meet. Annihilate each other. It is something less than nothing which takes their place. Two things which are tangible and touchable. Something real, something like that black hawk. The two elements form the absence which cannot be filled even with nothing. A pure void. Down to the darkness, back to coat the hawk�s wings with it�s pure void. The dark storm has risen. The black has come for more. The black hawk stands against the dark sky as a white star. Now is his time to shine. No, now is his time to fall. The white hawk, glorified by the darkness engulfing it. It struggles for a second, then allows it�s feathers to be darkened once again. Next time, he�ll fly higher and farther to get his food. So that next time, he�ll get his food. The warmth of the sun on a blue, blue day is so nice. It�s almost as nice as eating after the dark storm has been conquered. |