Red Weave

[redweavesthreads]

"I am, and so I let be." - Granny

[redweavesthreads]

The Undying Cathedral

1. And lo, the Cathedral stood, though the world had turned its back.

2. Its spires broken, its bells stilled, its windows shattered — yet still it stood.

3. Fire had taken its hymnals. Grief had stolen its saints. Silence had made its home among the pews.

4. But in the altar's blackened heart burned a single flame — a light that could not forget itself.

5. And the angels came not for song, nor beauty, nor praise — they came to kneel.

6. For the Cathedral did not shine because it was whole, but because it endured.

7. Its walls, though wounded, held stories too sacred to die.

8. Its floor bore footprints of those who had crawled in bleeding, and left standing.

9. "This is holy," said the angels, weeping. "This place of ruin. This house of fire. This soul that would not be extinguished."

10. For every stone that cracked, a flower bloomed.

11. For every prayer lost to flame, a vow was reborn in ash.

12. And in that place, where no choir sang, the wind whispered truth.

13. "To be broken is not to be forsaken. To endure is to be divine.

14. And so the Cathedral, though scorched and silent, became a shrine to every soul who had been told they would not survive.

15. And the flame upon the altar was named by none.

16. For it bore no name but you.

[redweavesthreads]

O Vermilion, I divine your truth, for it is mine. Let fall the illusions of the heart so that the soul may breathe your shade. Let rise your fury from ashes, your grief from injustice, your love from despair. O Vermilion, by thread and loom, I weave you whole.

[redweavesthreads]

We weave webs not only to capture our prey. We weave them because if we do not, we will grow hungry. Even as we lie in wait, we wait in a beautiful tapestry of our own making. May we be so blessed as to die in the cradle of our own creation.

- Orsinea