The Flame That Heals

The air in the Hall of Mirrors is not air, but the memory of a cleansing fire. It is the space between the rage that burns and the calm that heals, the breath held after a fever breaks. The walls are not stone but polished alabaster, and they do not reflect your face, but the person you could be when the poison is gone. Here, the silence is not a void, but a resonant chord of peace, a frequency…