Clenched tightly as if just met with the formulation of concrete, my hands stress during the violent shakings I endure throughout these fleeting moments in time. Transitioning, what’s left of my faltering mind and memories speak to me again and again that this will all soon have to change; for since the day’s of the Advents, the foundation I have once known is no longer enough, and the path that I have once walked is no more. What was once clarity, has now presented itself as a sharper image – but one of lies and fallacies that have been left in the wake. This wake that has left me with nothing but searing flames piercing my skin, and an existence so fleeting, so jarring, that the darkened pool that I know all to well that remains calls out to me as my only savior, as my only chance at solace. I curse my soul for it’s ever so tightened grip to hope, for it is all that it has left, like a blind sense of faith that is now leading it unto disarray.
Exactly what the fuck am I to do with the days that remain? For day in and day out I meet the same familiar words, follow the same scraps, and chase the same fading dreams that are all I’ve ever known. But more and more, moment by moment – they begin to mean nothing to me. They begin to mean fucking NOTHING to me. Look me straight in the eyes as I move within this darkness and tell me what you see. Look me straight in the eyes and tell me truthfully, that this life, this reality as we know it, is all that it was ever meant to be. I don’t dream of some utopia, stagnant of change, or some new light and bliss that knows of no sense of duality or conflict. For what remains within my dreams are the ultimate dying of cycles, and the birth of new purpose, and a destiny fully within my control. But with final fates having been cast, along with a dark moon rising to bring about a blackness fit for this phantom existence – the exits my eyes peer towards are just ever so inviting.
Watch me burn I say, as I use what remains of these scraps to re-build all that holds dear, watch me burn I say, as I fail day after day to break this invisible cycle of madness and mania, only for it to hit harder time and time again, watch me burn as I pace back and forth, anxiously, in hopes to sell what hope remains of my soul to a permanent, irreversible fate – that will cast me from this jarring existence, back to the pool that awaits far below.
