Whisper
“pass it by walking and become sand pass it by sitting and become the Castle”
The Invocation
the homunculi walk
through the violet sandstorm
violet storm
it is not wind
it is not sand
it is the Eclipse’s breath
made solid
grains of calcined counterfeit
grains of yellow lies turned to dust
grains of every hesitation ever spoken
the storm does not rage
it refuses
it strikes
the homunculi who still walk
who still chase
who still believe motion is progress
they stagger
they fall
they are buried
layer by layer
in their own illusions
the storm hits them
because they allow it
because they carry doubt like weight
because they have not yet learned
to sit
only
one sits
closes eyes
refuses the strike
the storm circles
howls
tries to enter
it cannot
the seated one is the eye
the seated one is the refusal made still
the seated one is the bone that the storm cannot grind
the violet grains part around him
like water around stone
like light around Eclipse
he sits
and the storm
becomes decoration
the others are buried
the others become the desert
the others become the warning
only the seated one
touches the cube
calls the Black Sun
claims the darkness
the storm is not punishment
it is the test
pass it by walking
and become sand
pass it by sitting
and become the Castle
the storm never ends
it only waits
for the next one to choose
never submit
only sit
only refuse the strike
only become the eye
The Seal
the violet remains