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22 lines
1.5 KiB
Plaintext
22 lines
1.5 KiB
Plaintext
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To cleanse by fire all that is impure, to allow the impurities to rise with the flames unto the all-accommodating high heavens.
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These rites would see fresh tinder lit during the rainy seasons, and wolf smoke would arise from those fires as prayers for blessings and the defeat of evil.
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These blazing rituals were especially commonplace during that ancient period of strife.
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For the dreams and delusions of the silent corpses of gods would produce evil miasmas,
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Snatching away the citizens who were no longer theirs, and those who never were theirs also.
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Then, a merciful doctor heard a whisper from within the flame as fierce as the red sunset,
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From within the crackling and snapping of withered grass.
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"Only an unbound flame can purify the filth of this world."
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"Lift up this scarlet firewood. With it, you shall repel every demon."
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So the doctor took up that devilishly red staff, igniting all that was impure.
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Those who have passed, unable to bear deep sadness, but who have since become shrouded by ill karma and calamity,
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They shall be reduced to ashen butterflies in this flame, and receive relief from their misfortunes and hurts.
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As for the doctor who lit those countless flames, legend has it that they, too, were reduced to smoke in the shape of a lovely butterfly.
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Though these rites have been forgotten over time and with the coming of peace,
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Those with fire in their hearts can still hear these whispered words from flickering flames when they find themselves faced with an imposing darkness:
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"Only an unbound flame can purify this world."
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