There was no blinding radiance, no endless chorus of celestial hymns, no golden gates gleaming beneath the light of an omnipotent sun.
Heaven—or what men called Heaven—was not a place of endless light and joy, nor was it an untouchable throne perched high above the struggles of mortal men. It was not a paradise carved from the dreams of the righteous, nor was it a kingdom built upon judgment.
It simply was.
The sky stretched endlessly, not blue nor gold, but something in between—an expanse too vast to be named, too shifting to be defined. Clouds did not drift here, nor did stars shine above. Instead, there was something greater, something deeper: a sense of space that held no walls, a horizon that held no end.
