http://ryu120488.deviantart.com/

An old japanese house with two rooms and doors that stood in the middle, a house that was built for three souls, three souls lurking in side this house, one soul as a sin which brought the darkness, two souls as innocence which brought the light.
First soul stood there, in darkness, lurking, watching, those few mourning sparks as they flied, enlighted the hall way, showing him the way.
His a wakeness was never known as he just stood there, lurking in darkness, not wondering about unreality, like he was in a dream, a dream he all ways lived in.
No thing was strange to him, no thing was there to suprise him.
Step by step, he moved to the first two sparks after the dark as he watched that one spark cry for him, one spark being washed by those water falls as the others were too.
Such perfection, such beauty, he thought.
Thousands of water falls washing those thin walls, washing those small sparks, falling in an embrace of the rivers the man walked through, the man harassed.
Drops were falling from above, cutting the air, circling small waves in rivers.
As he walked, they watched him, watching his every step, watching his every move, shadowing him, changing his reflection.
Slowly, he got to second two sparks, guarding those two rooms that stood one a cross the other, like a mirrors reflection as he passed through the fearless darkness.
Right room mourned as the left room stood behind that last water fall that washed a way all tears, all water falls, all rivers, all darkness that stood a cross.
He leaned on the edge of the left doors, slowly, watching in to the right room, seing darkness, lurking in this room, surrounded by rivers and mourning water falls, surrounded by tears, drowning that beauty of flowers that hopelessly stood there, living in side the walls, melting.
He turned while leaned and the left room had no difference, like a reflection of a mirror, one reflection swallowed by a darkness, other reflection swallowed by a light.
There it was, the second soul, a boy, waiting in the room, sitting on a futon, playing with the edge of it, so silent, abandoned.
A cross him was an other futon and in the middle a small table on which a small spark was sitting, sitting in his company, enlighting the darkness a round it.
As he went in to the room, a sudden turn he made and there were stairs, drowned in darkness he came from and a third soul, person, walking up stairs, a person he did not saw pass by, a person, drowning its self in darkness.
Even though he had to follow that person, he knew the boy was more important, he knew boy did not sat there for no reason, a lone, playing with the light.
The man stood in the hall way a cross the doors.
Slowly, he entered the room, wanting to know about the boy, passing through the last water fall, water fall that cried over him, bathing him in its own tears.
The boy looked at him, granting him a smile, the same smile that spark, sitting in his company, gave to him, a shiny smile, a perfect smile, a smile that no darkness could grant.
''Hello, mister.''
He slowly stepped to his futon and sat, crumpling its perfection, destroying its beauty.
''Hello.''
As they spoke, silent continued to act.
The boy continued on playing with the edge of futon as the man watched him, watched that tiny little spark, sitting in its house, shining through all the windows, shining through all its frontiers that darkness has created a round it as they got smaller by the time.
''What is your name?''
''Daisuke... And what is yours?''
The man froze in the warmness of the room, petrified by the boys words.
Do they carry the same name, does this explain why the boy looked familar to the man, are they the same person, then who does that person represent.
The man looked at him with such confussion, with such under standless as that spark, sitting betwean them, tendered them both with its light.
''Daisuke...''
No matter how unbelieveable it was to the man, to the boy it was normal, he just continued to play with the edge of his futon, toying with it.
Then he saw a window, a window he did not see before, a window that stood there, weakly, banning the out sideness from the in sideness, playing an obstacle.
But then he realised, there are no flowers, no flowers that, in side this room, would enjoy the light, enjoy the smile, their solidness and not darkness, tears, their liquidness.
''Do not bother... The window will lead you no where...''
The boy suddenly stopped playing and starred at the man, feeling his cravingness.
The man got up, slowly, a gain harassing the futon, and walked to the window as the boy watched him walk, following his weak foot steps, listening his silent foot steps.
His fingers slowly penetrated through window doors, slowly and weakly pushing them, letting them slide a gainst the wall, revealing what they kept behind, what they have kept from the in side as they no longer were an obstacle.
His sight saw a thousand rain drops breaking a gainst each other, breaking a gainst the out side wall, penetrating in side as they were creating water falls.
One by one drop washed his face as a warm breeze ran through his face, embracing the silence and emptyness of the room, embracing the light and the dark, dancing.
He looked and saw no thing, but a sea, the house floated though the air above the endless sea, dragging the land with it, droping all its tears, the solid ones and the liquid ones, feeding the sea as it shadowed it, reflected it with its self.
As his sight was all most as deceiving, he turned back in side and saw the boy, leaving the room as it cried over him, drowning the only spark that smiled to him.
Now there was no light the wind dance with, the wind embraced, the wind wanted.
Suddenly, those flowers from other room started to appear, spreading through the walls, blossoming as they melted under these tears of mourning walls.
A flower by a flower, a blossom by a blossom, creating such perfection.
This room gained the full reflection of the second room, its sadness, its sorrowness, like there was a mirror leaned a gainst the wall a cross, reflecting every detail, except the man, escept his soul, his body, liek he was just a ghost haunting this darkness.
The man ran out of this room, through all rivers and water falls, through all tears, trying to find the boy, then he saw him, walking up stairs where he once saw that person walking, walking in to the darkness, darkness after light.
As he was looking at the boy, those mourning flowers, surrounding the hall way, surrounding those sparks that stood soulless, melting, crying a long with the walls.
Such darkness filled them, such lightness left them, he thought.
He stood there thinking what is stopping him, why can not he move, why does he fear the darkness they have entered, why does he fear some thing he has created.
Suddenly, he ran to the stairs, to the darkness, following the boy, that person, leaving every spark, leaving every flower, leaving every tear drop.
As he ran to stairs, he felt sparks, one after other, their disapoint ment, their sadness, like they wanted to cry, but could not, be cause of him, be cause of his craving, craving that every one felt, tcraving he could not escape, craving that led every one to disappearance.
Step by step he ran up, in to the darkness, in to the place he could not see any thing as he passed several steps, he was still there, in the darkness, darkness he could not escape.
His fears grew as they over came him, making him paranoid, drowning him in to insanity he has brought by him self, drowning him in his own insanity.
Suddenly, he was brought back to same hall way, to same sparks, to same rooms and then those same doors, guarding, keeping as the window was doing the same.
Were this stairs endless, do these doors mean some thing, he thought while he stood there embraced by the darkness, darkness that killed every part of light, by his fault.
All the water falls, all the rivers, entered the darkness, entered their oblivion that he has entered too, that he has escaped, that they will not escape.
Slowly, he walked from the darknes by those sparks that once cried and now they died for him, in their cryness, drowned in tears, now left a lone, but even with out them, there was a light, coming from some where, the moon light, enlighting his way, not letting the darkness over come through whole house, through whole sea.
Where is the boy, where is that person, he thought, where will he be.
He walked slowly to the doors, passing all those dead sparks, all those mournings of walls, all those flowers that still blossomed in darkness.
As he got to the doors he stood there, petrified, not wanting to open them, but hading to.
When his hand embraced door handle the boy appeared, he stood there behind the man, watching him, lurking in darkness, fearing for what he might do to him self, to him, to every spark and every tear, to every flower that kept on blossoming through darkness.
The man turned for a moment as they both looked in the eyes, reflecting each other in this darkness, in the mourning, in the company of the dead sparks that still stood there, drowning in tears, no longer in their own, but in walls, then he opened the doors, the obstacle that kept the house from destruction, but there was no way that will lead him, just that sea.
Suddenly, all the sparks have been enlighted, brought to life, one by one as they were screaming and crying, they were no more just objects from out side and life from in side, they were life in every meaning, in every sense.
Piece by piece of the wall they ripped, piece by piece of them self they ripped so they would not live through this destruction the man has brought to them.
A long with the boy as a piece by piece of house, that cried, they were all absorbed in the far distance, falling a part as those tears, mournings fell in to the sea for ever.
The man stepped back, step by step, as every part of the house, every part of those sparks, that teared them selfs, teared the house, trying to rip them self out of those walls, trying to escape this madness the man has brought in, disappeared, aborbed by that far distance.
Every light disappeared, there was just that darkness, that forbidden darkness, lurking.
''Some things that are closed are not ment to be opened!''
He came to the stairs, to the darkness, where boy stood, watching him with anger, madness, insanity, running a way from the man, from the mans destuction, running in to the darkness that led the man no where, leaving him in his own trapness that brought him to his own insanity, to his own end from which he could not escape, a long with those flowers, flowers that had no more room to blossom, flowers that had to let go of their petals.
As the house was diappearing, so was he too, taking every piee of him in to that far distance where all the sparks and all the tears went in to, disappearing like a smoke, a smoke that was turned solid an then broke in to the pieces, a smoke harassed, by the wind and by the rain, by all the drops that broke a gainst each other and now penetrating through it.
Soon the darkness that lurked in the house, the light that sat there as frontiered, those three souls that were left a lone, those six sparks that died for a sin, were no where to be seen, just sea, an endless sea that no one fed, that no one cried over, that no one shadowed, leaving it in its own amuse ment, leaving it in its own mourness.
The house that once floated in its tears and its light, now floats in its sufferings and its emptyness, in far distance, over the endless, over the lonely sea.