This world is not the same as it used to be, moments ever-changing, and people ever-drifting throughout lines and alterations that are so far from their own. During these liniment moments however, where we all stand hand in hand whilst witnessing the impossible; all that was once locked up and away begins to unravel. Our hearts are all entangled within this mess, both yours and mine yearn for something more, both yearning to be a part of a greater whole – but alas, to no avail. So in the meantime we praise together, hoping that when the great tide covers these illuminated blue skies – we will remain in closeness forever more. For these skies are where your dreams tend to go when you are no longer paying them any mind, they drift through the endless lines and rays that were morphed by this dying sun – only to eventually become light of their own, light on display for the entire world to see; light that is free to breathe in and breathe out, light to take in and act as a beacon when hours of death and turmoil are met.
You know in heart that these moments will not last forever, you know that soon as air more familiar to that of the cavern walls begins to creep in – that these times that we praise will soon meet it’s end. Regardless of the various circles within cycles that you are caught up in now, you know all to well that they must be broken and shattered once and for all; the delusions of intimacy and love, soon to be replaced by a nature that was always meant to be yours. You once wore your heart on your sleeve, but it was all reversed when you felt that everyone is the same. Actions that stacked and spiraled during moments of a dying sun, and hopes and dreams that fled and morphed into a second one – were the origins you took to making out crevice’s of your own mind. Now, before it all is fated to happen again should you take the time for once in your fleeting life to put an end to the spell that leads to such vigorous repetitions; leading you onto the moments of the end that were always set in stone. For you significance is no longer of importance in this time, but instead, what is born within the moments of dying importance.
I can feel the light from both ends start bleeding now, the cries of their pain creating distortions within the sky above. I’ll turn away, every so slightly, both in shame, as well as in knowing that this is not the tragedy I am meant to bear witness to. For unlike those who worship as one and praise the sun, my hands are not met hand in hand with the others; my devolution remains kept and safe guarded, meant for nothing but myself and the small moments I have left before I dive back into the night. And despite what will happen once that final breath is taken, and the bleeding turns into a violent sea of blinding red once more across the skies – the world will keep turning, and time will keep marching. The only difference between now in then, is the type of existence I will be in – between the extinction of cycles, or the continuation of them.
