Was There Ever Anything As Cold As The Heart Of Man?

Waiting. Waiting waiting waiting. Waiting for the spark to come back. To reignite. To burst into life. Waiting for the life-giving breeze to come and fan the embers. Embers embers embers. All is embers. I live in ember-world, I realize. I make my house of dead embers. I wear a coat made of embers, my shoes are made of embers too. I have an ember hat which is rather smart. If I say so myself. Rather jaunty. My soul is but an ember too. Embers embers embers. Waiting for the life-giving breeze. The breath that breathes life. Waiting for the spark to come back.

 

 

Sparks have passed into legend these days. They have passed into mythology. The only sparks left are fairy-tale sparks. We tell our children stories about these mythical sparks but we don’t believe them ourselves. We don’t believe the stories we tell because our hearts are so cold. We don’t believe the stories because our hearts have turned into dead cinders. Such cold hearts we have. Such dead hearts. Was there ever anything as cold as the heart of man? Anything ever as cold. Anything ever as cold. Anything ever as cold.

 

 

The heart of man shines out with a terrible coldness all of its own. It illuminates in negative! It shows everything the wrong way. Everything is the reverse of what it should be. Everything is the inverse of what it really is – everything is coldness. We have made a whole world out of coldness. Out of coldness good will come, say our cold, cold hearts. Coldness is virtue, or so say our ice-cold hearts…

 

 

We’re waiting but we don’t know that we’re waiting. We’ve forgotten that we’re waiting. We’ve forgotten what it is we’re waiting for. We’re waiting for the spark to return. We’re waiting for the life-giving breeze that will fan our cold hearts into life. We’re waiting for our shoes to catch fire. We’re waiting for our coats to start smouldering. We’re waiting for our hats to burst into flames…

 

 

 

 

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