A path.
"…"
Words often felt hollow to Uriel.
Life was the best showcase of that.
To live. What did it mean to live?
To mortals, life was often said to be a very explicit and linear experience. So much so that most saw it as a meaningless endeavour.
Born to die.
To most, life simply stood as a prelude to death, a small spark of beauty before the endless agony of nothingness, minds able to fathom the edges of the infinite stuffed into suits kin to the finite.
It was a meaningless existence.
But every shadow was born from a ray of light.
As meaningless as it may be to some, to others, the finite scope of life often gave it all meaning. It made every single second priceless.
It gave authenticity and worth to every laugh, every cry, and every summit climbed, whether physical or spiritual.
The exclusivity of life and consciousness was a gift all ought to cherish as the greatest of boons before they inevitably rejoined the folds of nothingness.
