Your Own Heaven

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I just found myself in a dark space.

I see a small flower pot with a sapling in it.

It is beautiful.
Gold sparkles on it's leaves.
Two small clay pitchers with water inside.
A clay pot with fire dancing on it.

It's calling me.
It wants me to act on it.
I trust my intuition.

I kneel in front of it.
I'm a puppet.
I don't think about what I do.
My hands guide themselves to grab one of the pitchers then pours the water in the pot.

The sapling grew. In a second. It became a tree.
That same tree I grew with my own hands back in 1018, the same tree that killed me.

After, I hesitate before grabbing the other pitcher, and violently pour the water on the fire.

The smoke that streamed from the source blinded me, making a screeching sound. I closed my eyes avoiding it, protecting them.

After I open them I was somewhere else.

A forest.
A lake.
A hut.

I did it.
I fulfilled my promise.
Here is where I'll wait for my friends to come someday.
Here is where they'll find peace.
Here, is my own heaven.
My own dimension.
All my magic, all the nature magic.
Merged together, created a new nature. A different nature, dead, but wonderful.

Negative thoughts or actions don't exist here.
All you feel is peace.

Love.

I may rest now.


And as Jo's funeral was taking place, everyone was mourning, crying, eyes puffed and knees weak, a little vine grew from the ground, placing a white rose on top of the casket.

And it f that little flower had a voice,
If it had the ability to travel inside a mourning person's head,
If it could affect it, change it, talk to it, it would say;

Don't forget about me.
Because my body was not there.
My body had disappeared.
My body turned into nature and was blown away by the wind.

My body was that little white flower. 

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