The Fall, The Break, The Separation and Silence...
by MemoryandDream
Preface: Sometimes, I simply am writing-mostly to a query, a question-and it hits me. I begin to just write True...where memories blossom out unbidden. I simply feel my fingers move across the keyboard and when I'm done, I have put to paper something which I did not know I remembered previously... Today, while posting to my forum on the subject of "god" this came forth. This was originally wrote several years ago, but I've updated and modified it with lessons learned over the years.

I know that nowadays I feel incomplete. Fractured. Missing. Like I ache for something I can't name. I have very strong feelings against modern religion - all of them, and specifically, what they represent - because they (in my mind) focus on the wrong things. To me, the Divine is not something that exists in a book; as a symbol; in an icon. The Divine is not understood, nor encompassed. It just is. And part of what bothers me is when people say that their "god" or their view of the Divine is correct because ________ (insert reason here). No one can claim they know because no one has seen or heard the Divine. Sure, I believe that some have had inspirations, had dreams, visions, and even a charge to do something...but, it's not from the Divine in my opinion. It's from within themselves. (Those rare few, who's visions were more then wishful thinking, or willed manifestation born of desperation, for whom True sights were granted, found such insights from the discarded inner connection that yet lingers in all of life to the One and complete Whole. Most people see only what they wish to see and/or what they themselves show themselves; i.e. imagination. True Seers remember and access the faint link within which gives to all life a piece of the Divine and cry for the hope of a return of old.)

Long ago, far longer then I can explain or recall, there was a unity. There was a perfection. There was a complete and whole to what IS. The Divine spoke through us - my people, my kind, those of The First - our songs and voices reaching the width and breath of the world. It was, we were, life was. Together we were One. We bridged reality with the Divine; we connected all points and made them whole. 

Something happened. I don't know how. I don't know where it went wrong, but it did. Cracks and breaks raced along the edges of reality; splintering and chipping away at the Union. We Fell. Our Songs went Silent. The Divine split away and there was a great stillness...

It was empty...

It was quiet...

It was endless darkness...

Slowly, a light wavered, trembling slightly, it grew from the center outwards, coating again what was left with a different light then ever before. The light of the mundane Sun - and not the purity of the Divine. The world was broken, The First dying on hard, cold earth. Humanity made their own reality, forced out with their free will and thought, that which had previously been in harmony. They rose, grew, and spread. But inside they ached.

They longed again for things they no longer could understand or see or touch. The heavens were silent. The messengers gone. True Song was lost for a long time as language rose to take it's place. But it simply wasn't the same. It carried no weight, no feeling, no true meaning. They began to ask, to beg, to pray; they sought out the stories of the past and longed for the Divine again. But the Divine was gone and the knew not how to reach Her again. So, they did as they always have - they made a new reality - a new form of Divine for themselves.

We of the First slept. We we forced from this place, this world, this realm. Some have never come back, some may yet still; all remember Before. All can see the futility of this self-made faith. This self-made reality that only echoes the faintest memories of what once was. That longing remains deep in humanity's fiber - deep in their core. It made them once, long ago, but lays no claim any longer.

The prophets, the seers, those with Sight; they can almost taste the past; taste what it was once. They often misinterpret it and confuse the nature of the past and the present, muddling the issues and adding to the longing. They take heart that it's a new sign, but it's often it's just old songs ringing softly in their ears. Songs long lost, forgotten and unsung.

Some feel the loss to this day. Those who were First, feel it continuously. It is gone and I don't know if ever it will come back. The past is lost to us, expect in our memories. Life moves forward. Humanity reshapes reality to their Will and needs - taking for themselves the early steps toward their envisioned form of "god" - making themselves the creators of life and death; searching for that completion they destroyed so very long ago.

Eons have past. The Divine is still there - but in ways we can not longer see, or feel, or touch. Life has grown up around invisible walls created so long ago by humanity's need for control.  The world is an empty place with empty people searching, killing, and dying for fragments of Truth. The First remember, and those who walk on mortal feet, try to bridge the gap - attempting to return the birthright of the Divine to humanity. It is a war without end, and a battle with no winners, for the Will of man is strong and stubborn. The First days may never come again, but this does not stop us from trying nonetheless. The Divine is in the heart of everything in existence - we need only to surrender to that acceptance to find our long forsaken solace.

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