A long time ago, in the future of a past long lost to the echoes of time, a passionate world existed. In this particular world, the sun danced along the horizon like a temple dancer, prancing from east to north. The sky, wrapped itself around the sun like invisible undergarments, casting a scarlet filter on the many landscapes below. The lands at the height that sun was peering down at them at, seemed to resemble the likes of pimples, some towered above others and some nestled close the core that was the skin.
Soon enough, various kinds of exotic flora and fauna arose. Each, carrying with it a unique texture, brand and flavour. From the towering, snow-white, homogeneous trees to the wild cacophonies of ever branching and ever differentiating rain-forests. These forests pasted a saturated, dark filter upon the fauna dwelling beneath.
Fierce wilder-beasts ranged throughout the land, picking and pillaging at the elixirs provided by the bountiful biomes throughout the day. Then, once the luminescence of the moon shone through and the area was consumed by the subtle, silver hue of the void-like night, they would tear through each-other. Skin, flesh, muscle, tendons, ligaments, scattered and consumed. Divvied up and conquered. Then, once the sun's watchful daylight glare peered above the horizon, the fighting would stop, the killing would end and the various kinds of fauna would settle back into the false peace promised by day.
That was the way that the passionate world had always been.
–and in that passion, rested suffering.
In the distant future, when buildings towered towards the heavens themselves like a rehashed Babylon, and the sprawling forests where replaced by cancerous differentiating conglomerations, there existed a 'Utopia'. A land untouched by the deep-rooted self satisfying corruption of officials, a land untouched by the industrial degradation of it's waters and soils, a land untouched by the reality of warfare and ideological conflict.
That land, where humans' imperfection was the closest to perfection, was the place that all wanted to be. That land where the constant looming guillotine that was the tides of strife, war and famine was only a distant thought, was the place that all wanted to be. That land, that land indeed.
So, from the rivers to the seas, from the skies to the hilly-rises, from the stars to the moon, the world would protect that oh- so precious land. For that land represented all that was good in the world, in a world rife with conflict, progression and passion, it was the only constant, the only mild flavour in a world so fiercely hot it scorched any not prepared for it's reality to cinders.
Nestled within the centre of the utopia, was a blithe young boy. His head stuck in the cold, sterilised mud. There, he laid, as a pleasantly stagnant prisoner of the smiles, bonds and attachments that tied him to that utopia.
Yet, with it's claws outreached, the invisible hand of fate tore open that sterilised shell and plucked him out of the mud. It guided him towards an unknown. With his fate isolated in the dark, he trekked on, revealing the realities of the outside world.
The crimson sky, which was decorated with scarlet streaks and dotted with white clouds, loomed over. Underneath that sky, was a pool of warm, visceral red. It seemed to engulf, consume and override. That pool lurched towards him, indignant.
–And he was too weak to resist.
He was consumed in the deep, fiery, passionate pits of the world. Yet, with his blitheness, obliviousness and stagnancy, he found himself unable to claw out of the pit hell had dug him. For that, the machinations of the world threatened to override him. And, override him it did. Unable to bear it anymore, he surrendered to the cold, sterilised, perfect shell and became new.
Then, as he became new, a darkness perspired, darkening the already blotted, bloodstained canvas and with it, hatred, envy and suffering became the norm. In an already passionate world, filled to the brim with the embers of love and war, It became too much to bear and thus the world itself shattered into the same factions from whence it arose.
Thus, the land itself became derelict, rife with poison, lust, war and negligence and those with a voice, strength and power found themselves silenced, unable to focus on any but themselves. And, for the first time, the world was unified.