Last of the Ascension (Verse) - 21
Power
Recognition would come—
he told himself.
As if truth announced itself.
His skin answered first—
a warning he chose to interpret.
Memesis—
still near.
He let the thought pass—
because he needed to.
Doubt surfaced—
uninvited, unwelcome.
He pushed it down—
not far enough.
The mala remained—
which meant the past remained.
What else did he have?
He needed to move freely—
to be unbound.
He wrapped his hands around the cup—
heat without meaning.
He needed power—
or believed he did.
But—
the words returned.
Not needing them.
They did not explain themselves—
which made them true.
He pressed his teeth to his lip—
holding something back.
Frustration rose—
familiar, insufficient.
Then—
something shifted.
Not outside—
within.
He saw it—
or almost did.
All the movement—
the urgency—
the reaching—
the need to restore—
had hidden something simpler.
Power—
had he ever held it?
Had he ever needed it?
The question remained—
unanswered, but awake.
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