●●●●

Graves cannot contain
my spirit;
death is not the end of
time,
though mybody turns
to ashes,
I will rest in peace
subline.
- Greta Zwaan.
●●●●

Ankh - Life; Duat - Death.

●●●●

The fires burnt bright in their
eyes. She was the creator, and he, the destructor. Together they
made what we know as nature.
Neither controlled by the other,
they are a continuous cycle
starting from infinity and ending
at infinity.

With a sigh of grief ,she passed on
the soul to his hand. Like a
mother she has nurtured
the little soul, gave life in his eyes and
had waited patiently for him to
walk the mortal's land. It turns out,
he ran out of time before he had
time to experience time.

He smiled knowingly. She had
attached herself with yet another
being, although it was against the
law. But, it was they who had the
laws in their hands anyway.

"This is not fair," she complained,
passing a wilted flower to him
which he had gladly accepted."You get
more powers and control than
I do. Shouldn't we be equal?"

"What are you talking about,
beloved?" he said, twisting the
dead flowes in his hand, turning
the finite into infinte, the tangible
into intangible." Destruction is
easy. It's the creation that needs
more power."

She sighed again, passing on few
dead leaves. He understood what
she felt, but to explain it to her,
he did not accept the dead leaves.
When she looked up at him,he
was already humming a tune to
a song :

The flowers look like they have
been drunk on love lately.
When they are loosing their nectar
to the Queen of honey.
Darling, the rivers twist and turn
and fade away slowly,
We live together we ease, but in
the universe, we can't coexist.
With patience and passion, you
weave your creation,
Out of the darkest black holes
and dark matter.
When I turn around your hand
and work to mere singularity,
You feel your world shatter; you
count yourself as weak.

But don't you see - the flowers
loving you more than honey.
And the man lives with joy even
though he knows he'll greet me.
It takes respect and desire to be the one with the power,
But I lack both as I choose to be an
easy disaster.

She knew the song, but every time
it felt different. With a satisfied
smile and emotionless eyes, death
took the leaves and turned them
to what the flowers were but
before he could do so, she was
turning the infinte to finite, the
intangible to tangible.

"We have different roles , Death."
said Life, resurrecting a beautiful
flower from the mess. "But the
important fact is - we are one."

●●●●