The flashes came quick, but much like my visions, dreams, and memories, it surpassed quicker than I could acknowledge. This, I can only say so many times, was in fact foreseen, dreamed upon, within some distant barren platforms, a soul free from chains, ready to depart. However much like the flashes that occur to me these days, you were gone, in what seemed an instant, but in reality a matter of days following the exile,  too slow to predict, yet slow enough to create a wound so big, one would ponder if you caught hold of some dangerous meteor shower. Perhaps there were white lies that were told, from both sides, to avoid a more catastrophic occurrence than of the one that is in which taking place now. But deep down inside, this I doubt. Time has gone from twisted to shattered, from shattered to repaired, from repaired to non-existent. All has changed since that fateful early morning, a morning where one would expect the sunrise, yet for some mysterious cause, darkness crept through the morning dawn like a shadow under the midnight sky. For now with these holes I carry, yet the stairs I climb, take me to the time of a new venture. With the first set out since the new Advents arrival, I wander once again to finish what I have started, to find what I seek. However, with you in the corners of my mind, my soul thirsts for what it cannot have, parching itself into some dangerous depths, filling the voids with these flashes that strain the heart to no end. But for what it counts, I continue this path, and stay true to my oath. Hope is a guiding beacon.