Words splintered on the heart:

Grandmother, I'm breaking the chain.
The light bursted through your open eyes at death.

There you were swallowed with ferocity by the sun from which you danced and plotted in the night, as a cat hunts with the risen moon.
Light, despised in terror.

Prophecy:

The light seeps through my pores, and I will not be cold. Horrors confronted, abolished.