I look around, I can't place where, or how I got the marks, still painfully visible, although, as deep and hidden, as the shadow, in the night. Nothing you can see, or touch, but still as tangible as the change in my pocket. Overwhelmingly true and vulnerable, though having the strength of inevitability and destiny. I can't remember what brought me to this place, or how I can find a way back. sometimes it seems I never left, but then again, I know better. Familiar passages, quietly obscure and twisting their way, to an infinite wisdom. Unknown, but to the few who have passed before. Elegant pain, pure, with only truth as a witness. Surrounded by memories that never fade. Embraced passionately by the promise of gentle peace. The journey, immense and intimate, one mans footsteps, uniquely chosen with each passing moment. Led by heart, or instinct, or fate, to see and feel the world as never before. Just a dream of illusions, perfectly random, carefully improvised, so that most don't even notice where that path eventually leads. Wrought with a cold beauty, indifferent, to those who tread so carefully into oblivion. Eagerly distracted from the true nature of the journey. Hints, confessions if you will, carefully exposed so the true nature of the beast within remains elusive. Healing, and destructive. Lies exposing the truth. Ultimately selfish. Diabolical in the delivery, though, unintentional. Or is it? Only words to most, rhythmic and soothing, as the chaos within grows.Fed by confusing and contradictory emotion. Powerful, seemingly insurmountable, and hopelessly hopeful, That, I will awaken, and there will be only us, as we were... |