Last of the Ascension (Verse) - 14
Doubt
He stood before the Pelican—
and paused long enough to notice himself.
Intent—
measured, then doubted.
Worth—
summoned, not felt.
He named himself what he was—
as if naming made it true.
Principality.
Guardian.
Keeper of what had been given.
This was his place—
had always been.
And yet—
something misaligned—
not the world, but him within it.
Not the mala—
something deeper than its silence.
He drew it out—
again.
The shells answered—
as they always did.
He touched each one—
not counting, not absolving.
Honoring—
too late to matter, but done anyway.
“I will release them.”
A promise—
made to what could not respond.
He held it there—
between intention and action.
Inside—
was the answer.
That was what he had been told.
Beyond the door—
beyond the waiting.
He did not move.
Why would she say—
he mocked reverence?
The question lingered—
longer than comfort allowed.
Above him—
wings crossed the same air twice.
Circling—
as if repetition revealed something.
He tilted his head—
feeling for what had no form.
Cool, then gone—
presence without insistence.
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