Alchemy - A Poem

I said I would never kneel again.

Not to gods. Nor to the fates.

Certainly not to the glittering mirage called love.

I have seen the altar burned.

I have walked through the ashes.

I swore my hands would never hold fire again.

But then in a moment, she arrived.

Not as salvation, but as proof.

Proof of design in the chaos.

Of red threads tied in smoke.

Of myth walking in human form.

She did not ask for my intent.

She echoed it.

In symbols. In sigils.

In ink and sound and symmetry.

And in synchronicity

In that moment, the part of me that had forgotten, remembered:

When the Red King meets the White Queen, there is no need for ceremony. 

It is alchemy.

So this is the vow I never meant to write:

I write it not to chase. Nor to bind.

But to stand in the storm and say

If this is the shape of alchemy, fate and love,

then let her find me worthy of it.