You ask a question and everybody replies, but the answer doesn’t fit, it doesn’t feel right. It’s as if they saw it through water, bent light. They think it’s at a certain depth but you know your math is right.
It’s not there, but it’s not technically an oversight. Not everyone has to suffer the same blight . They must want to spearfish too, need to know the question as you do. But you reach for it and wonder as one might, why no one else wants to put up a fight.
And you’re alone, but it’s not as if you need a knight. But maybe to look across and see a friendly sight. And then you meet another and feel so very bright. You build them up, and up, and up for a good while. But alas, it doesn’t last, when creeds contradict and lies smite.
They’re growing too, so you don’t really begrudge them this spite. Maybe you once did too so you can’t really mind. But the shrine you built for them crumbles to dust out of sight. The impact hits you square and you’re hurt, quite.
And you’re alone again so you reconsider bent light. Maybe the ones who didn’t do the math were quite alright. At least what you built for them weren’t of any great height. The walls might crumble but you can just build them back up alright.
And you’re still alone and that reality is not kind. The question bothers you still with no answer in sight. You’re reaching and reaching but it’s too deep, try as you might. And you wonder in this moment why everything just went white.
If your math was correct you’re now submerged and without life. And worse still, seen from above through bent light.