Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Dynasty of Vagabonds

Lightning is organic. Here the rolling ashen skies are vast, yet ephemeral, I know; fading into darker storms fringed on the horizon...always with the never-ceasing anticipation of dawn still lurking somewhere in the soul.

Tomorrow screams in mystery while restless yesterdays lie buried swiftly in the sand- the same soil in which the roots of antipathy are sown. I know no destination, only provocative sojourns- brief mainstays to witness the fleeting ballads of my brothers. I grasp upon their lifesongs as precious jewels in this faltering vessel, though mournfully inept.

Viatic thoughts rage, maraud, and devour. Merciless in nature... I find I can claim nothing of the world. [Yet thinking everything of it] Flocks of crows come to follow now and then at my back.

So many voices; Senses fade to the sounds of my less-inquired melodies. Are there no ears to hear them by? From my lips fall hymns to metamorphosis' pulse. Can I bear what has become? What once was? What will be? Can eluvium once buried come to surface once again?

...Remaining just a seed, deprivation in a nutshell, simply awaiting for that vital sign; Wondering if there is a space in the fabric of time with my dimensions to fit.

I'm unraveled in the rain because the sky so reflects my soul.

And in this cryptic forest, the raw shadows speak.

"Lo, the longings you run away from! I am the embodiment of your stigma; My lips detest the wretched unseeing. You seek and hide from futile promise, yet avert from human whim- the very whims that burn you."

From their dark existence- one can only notice- such blazing eyes, flickering.

"You are a ghost in a great sea, a sea composed of your profound deceit, a sea conjured from your very core: evanescent in nature. Your isolation alone is thy paradise and thy end."

Who says the night is baneful? because it is the time in which our facades are undone, letting our hearts beat in the open? Despite the shadows' dismal resonance, I find a smile in my persistent steps:

The road is an enigma...

...and it is mine.

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