When The World Is On Fire
15 May, 2019.
A unicorn ran through the world,
Through fields, through rivers,
Over mountains and hills.
It danced through streams, purifying the water,
And passed through forests like a dream, leaving perfume and sweet thoughts
For all who were blessed with a glimpse of it.
The goodness of the unicorn, its gentleness and strength,
Made the world a better place,
And the unicorn knew that people led better lives
Because of the unicorn.
And the unicorn laughed.
One day the Spring was less joyful than usual.
One day the Summer was too hot.
One day the Autumn seemed too bitter.
One day Winter came and never seemed to leave.
The skies never brightened with the Spring.
In Summer, the forests caught fire.
The streams flowed brown, then turned bitter,
And then the fish started to die.
Grass withered and did not grow back.
Rain did not fall — or it fell and flooded.
Plants shrivelled. Animals vanished.
The herds were thinner. The flocks were smaller.
The bears starved. The wolves stopped howling.
And the unicorn wept.
But still the unicorn danced in the streams,
Danced on the mountaintops,
Breathed on the leaves to make them grow greener,
And did all the good a unicorn can do.
Still the unicorn ran through the world.
Then war came.
People screamed.
People died.
Tyrants poisoned the world,
As though they thought they had the right to do so;
As though they thought their cruelty would never affect them.
Suffering flowed like a river,
Glutted with unimaginable evils.
The unicorn did not understand how this could have come to pass.
The unicorn sobbed, and hung its head.
But still it kept running,
Trying to find some streams to purify,
Trying to dance when every whisper of the breeze brought the scent of new evils,
And more pain.
The clouds became darker — darker than the unicorn had ever seen them.
The sounds of war became louder and more horrifying.
The smell, the smell — the stench was overwhelming.
The unicorn choked.
The screams became more numerous. More, and more, and more.
So many. Too many.
The whole world was screaming.
The whole world was on fire.
The seas were boiling, animals dying;
Flames licked at the unicorn’s hooves.
Birds dropped from the sky —
Lifeless bundles of feathers with closed eyes and silent throats.
All the green in the world was blackened with blight.
Everything good that had ever existed —
Everything that the unicorn could remember as being good or beautiful —
Seemed to be spoiled, tortured, ruined.
And the unicorn stumbled.
Knees bending, legs weakening,
Strength and grace flowing away and dissipating
Like the clean rivers that had turned to toxic steam.
What is the point of a unicorn
When the world is ending?
How can I bless the world,
Thought the unicorn,
When what it really needs is saving?
And how can I save it
When it is beyond my power to save?
I was not meant to save the world.
I am meant to inspire it, not save it.
But when the world is ending,
What good is inspiration?
What good are sweet air and refreshing dreams
When all the air is poisoned and sleep is a luxury?
The unicorn looked around.
Nowhere was safe.
Nothing was untouched by the blight, or unspoiled by cruelty.
Except me, thought the unicorn,
Looking down at its white legs
With their satin hide and silky feathering.
I am still untouched.
I still desire good things. I still have a pure heart. I am unspoilt by cruelty.
I am the only place in this world where goodness still reigns.
I can lie down and die here,
And relinquish the last good thing in this world.
Or I can keep moving.
I can run through this miserable, ruined place
And be the last good thing on this planet.
The screams tear my heart to pieces.
My eyes burn from crying as much as they burn from the poisonous fumes.
Every innocent creature that suffers
I mourn.
And my jaw hurts from grinding my teeth because I cannot save them.
But if I am the last good thing on this planet,
I will not let myself die.
I may have no hope for this world,
But if I lie down and die,
I will take away the last beautiful thing from this world,
And I will not be the one to do that.
So the unicorn stood.
Its legs trembled.
Its ears drooped.
Its tail dragged in the ash.
But it lifted its head.
And it started walking.
Because as long as there is one unicorn left on this planet,
The world is not completely evil.
