Golden Scapegoat's Mutterings

1 Bundle dried fennel branches tightly, then let it fully soak in olive oil — that is how a handy torch is made. Growth, decay, and sprouting once more... They were once unrelated to the civilized world, yet given a name by the unreasonable, and then burned to ashes again. Like that stele amid wild brush commemorating divinity. There must always be a lamb framed for sin in this world, the traveler thought as such: Fire and light are the embodiment of that sin. 2 A feeble flame. Its light is akin to a young girl's long hair, shimmering with silken splendor, yet destined to be devoured by the endless darkness. People always say that light and dark are opposite elements — as if they were twin sisters. But their natures can't be more different: Darkness is infinite time and space, clumsy and dull. Light is ephemeral life, fleeting in its brilliance. Nameless dark clouds forever linger at the corners of the ranch. The smart lamb will persuade itself: "I know nothing of the butcher's knife, after all." 3 The sky has crossed the great sea, the storm stirring crashing waves against the coast. Broken ivory rocks are strewn over the black reef, like lichen grown out of salt: Those are vestiges of dismembered tides. The traveler rides the waves with their lamb in tow. Those waves are more alabaster and more fledgling than wool... and also even closer to voiceless eternity. 4 One can imagine a bird's warble by picking up a feather. Therefore a feather is a singing bird. One can imagine a dolium's figure by picking up a ceramic shard. Therefore, a ceramic shard is a dolium, and can similarly be filled with nectar. One can imagine a traveler's home by seeing them. Therefore, a traveler is their home, where one can touch the rainbow speaking at the ranch. Gods wish to see the world: Thus came Darkness.