The final prayer

On that day, the heavens split in silence, and from the void descended a clock, not of metal, not of clay, but of time’s very flesh, beating between us like a heart slowly fading. I looked upon it without fear, because I knew; endings do not arrive with cries, but with a silence that weighs heavier than any unspoken word. You were fire, and I, merely a candle burning. I was your home, but you longed to be a storm. You became my storm, while I searched for a sky that might forgive me. And thus, time decided for us. It placed us on the scale of eternity and let the seconds part us, one by one, until we were nothing but strangers, draped in memories that no longer belonged to us. But I will not curse you. I will not let your shadow press upon me like an unhealed wound. I leave you there, in that place where light no longer reaches me. One day, the clock stopped. And instead of fear, I felt only release. Not because time had ended, but because love should not be a burden carried unto death. Perhaps somewhere, beneath another sky, under a different God, we were written on the same page. Perhaps there, no clocks exist, and there are no farewells. But here, in this life, we were only a prayer left unanswered. And now, at last, I can say: Amen.