The Yeba!Mailing List presents...

oh if only the darkness could speak...

To the Day from the Night
By: Sumire

How cruel can one be to another? Even if unknowingly?

How can one martyr another so painfully, in such agony?

For...

I love you.

It is strange, I know, for the darkness to seek to embrace the light and
its warmth, for the Night to love the Day. To love the Day so much that she
is willing to forsake all she has -- the darkness, the encompassing blankeet
she lets fall over the world, the gentle light of the moon and her stars...
all, just for the searing heat and painful light of the day. Even now I feel
in the deepest part of my being the warning that the centuries of my
existence have instilled in me... the warning that this love is the love of
the dying for her destroyer.

For do you know that the darkness before the light withers and dies as the
Night before the Day is destroyed by the searing heat of noon, by the
destroying light of love?

But still... whatever happens I cannot change the truth. And that is how
much I love you.

You turn your face towards the Morning, not hearing the words screaming
their bittersweet song deep in my heart. And sighing I remove thoughts of
myself from my mind, remembering and feeling that you have never -- ever --
even heard, or felt, or suspected what I feel. You have never seen the
glimmer of stars in my eyes whenever I see the shining light you bring, or
the flush of twilight that stains my cheeks in the warmth of your presence.

You have never seen! With every second that I see your blind eyes radiant
with incomprehension -- with misguidedness, for you think that you can see
past my dark mantle when you cannot -- I feel the thorn of pain driving
deeper into my heart. Have you ever thought how difficult it is to love when
the beloved is insensible to your thoughts? And loves another, expecting one
to rejoice in that love?

No. And you rise, drawing your light around you, stepping away from the
cherished moments of sunset -- a shifting second in the infinity of time --
then walking away. At the very last second, before you step over the golden
line of dawn, you turn back to me.

"Night?" Oh, to hear that voice of deepest vibrant gold throbbing in
love... for me, for me!... for but one moment! But dreams... are dreams, and
I, Mistress of shadows, know that. Perfectly.

I draw my darkness around me, growing deeper without your light.

"No," as a tendril of glittering stars gestures for you to go, "I'm fine."

I stop as the glowing halo of the Sun appears. The Sun, she without whom
you cannot live -- or so you say -- the Sun, who is your light and the coore
of your very being, as you are to me. The Sun, she who is cherished and
blessed, radiant and beautiful, bringer of life and banisher of the
darkness. She who is as different from my essence as the north is to the
south, as my darkness is to your light.

You love her, as you have for centuries. And I have been silently dying,
painfully wounded, all that time.

It is only natural for you to love her -- she, beloved of all. It is only
natural for you to seek the most beautiful and shining of your own kind, the
source of light. But still... as you cross the tinted line of dawn and reach
for her hand I cannot help feeling a fresh stab of pain in my heart that is
already wounded and unfeeling to hurt. Only hurt.

"Night," you say to me once again, as you and she turn to leave. Oh, Sun,
your smile of happiness mocks me!

"Yes," I reply, forcing a smile, a twinkling of a few stars, "go." If you
only knew how many glistening tears those two words are worth! Tears shed
for what could have been but could never, ever be reality... tears shed for
the impossible, for the inevitable.

But you will never know.

And I will keep on hoping, and waiting, and torturing myself with
listening and seeing you two shining in dazzling radiance, and wishing...
and loving. Yes, loving you with all the intense light my stars contain and
with all the steadfastness of my darkness.

And that is the way it will be... forever.