The Road of Ages | via media
What is this devilish blossom? Who would create such a thing?
On the road of ages, there grows a type of flower. A flower which roots itself just between the aorta and the superior vena-cava, it digs into the crevice just behind the heart-valves where the flesh never sees the sun. It favours the hearts of the good people — not the kind which hold the door open for just a few seconds longer — but the hearts of the truely beneficent. They are rare, and so is the flower. Once rooted, it can never leave. The plant is deadly.
Upon a time, the we reach into the thread-basket and sow onto the earth a pinch of these seeds. They float through windows in the dead of night, sensing the soft and charming snores of little infants in cradles. In infancy, the human is rendered almost completely defenceless by the most basic mechanisms: these youngsters cry and shake their tiny fists, but can to nothing to resist the parasitic plant. By the time their mothers and father have arrived at the cradle, it is already over: the flower has already begun to thrive. And you wonder why babies never sleep soundly.
We call them hosts: carriers of these blooms are instigators of all things horrible. Their hearts are too fertile for the parasite. They disrupt the balance between the extremities: aggravate the good and the bad, the corrupt and the virtuous. Along this road of ages, they stand on the sidewalks, bodies contorted in an attempt to contain this disease. Thus they must die, lest everyone around them falls into dilapidation. The plant revels in squalor, and the host suffers immensely in the process.
The faithful pray for it every night, the damned weep tears excreted from its thorns. Where we go, this flower goes too.
You must be wondering: What is this devilish blossom? Who would create such a thing?
We call this plant ‘cum-passio’. We created it in our image. For to save the sinners, we must cull the meek.
