Sorrow of the Escape

There is nothing but death in the distance. A looming shadow that edges closer to my reality, grasping at what I once had.  Fear growing ahead of the impending devastation, site unseen.  With each moment it becomes clear that it was meant to be my stronghold. Yet I find no relief. There is no escape. Only darkness and silent torment, tearing away at the walls, hoping to peel back the illusion of life and strip away the fallen.

The Fallen

 Everything is collapsing around us. A dark shadow casts its devilish embrace, pulling it all into the abyss with a slow and torturous pace. There is no shimmer, no captivation of grace, only the unseen that can be felt at midnight. It’s simply an illusion, building upon the fragile fantasy that we all endure. Unable to escape, we can only continue on, evolving ourselves to succumb the to pain.

The Escape

Always stuck in a path that goes away, an ending to nothing and a beginning for everyone. A looming abyss of torment and gratitude, reaching for the heavens. Its hard to focus on anything that's real when everything lives beyond the darkness. But yet - here we are, at rest. Thoughtfully engaging in a reality that only exists in solitude and sorrow. To what end should we be free?

Find a Way

The world only exists in this prison as an ending that keeps moving ever so close to us. We can no longer feel the beginning, only the dim horizon as it shifts away in the distance.  It’s all fleeting and eternal; just a chaotic path to our insanity.  Even as we leave it all exposed, it remains buried deep within, rotting in tribute to the all things that can’t escape us.

Today is Tomorrow

It was never truly known that this could be the way things would turn out. But of course, somehow we all knew deep inside. If we pretend to have suspected anything less, we are only lying to ourselves.  Everything devolves through entropy, and daily we manage to proclaim and prove this hypothesis with a passionate cry. The turmoil surrounds us and casts a welcoming shadow with open arms. A friend that is all to eager to come home.

World of Hurt

There is so much disdain for things that differ for the norm.  Not just here, but everywhere and amidst us all.  There are so many things from the past, things that can bring life together; yet they are forgotten in the sand of time.  If only we could trust us once, then everything could be just as it should.  This; a realization that will never occur, not now, not ever.  Everything goes from the simplicity of a strike on the calendar to the complexity of a million beasts looking for their next kill.  I must give up on it all just to make it through.  My hand and your hand together.

Misplaced

As we all become part of it, it never ceases to end.  There is a great turmoil that bellows from life; from our humanity.  Just as we think we have a grasp on what is real, with it's ridges slipping so delicately, everything comes tumbling down.  A catastrophe built upon decades or disregard for anything greater than ourselves.  Even myself, a victim of such revelation, yet I manage to somehow remain jaded and perhaps even damaged. Only time with its single and purposeful course can speak to what the future holds.

How Life Spins

    We can only imagine the direction that it will take us.  As we wander through the woods, looking at the sky life has other plans.  Regardless, it doesn't matter since we are going to fall into the place that we are supposed to be anyway. Redundant and uncognitive, we are rowing the motions of being alive and taking in the sensations.  A world surrounding us that is nothing more than dirt and a vessel.  Why is it all so simple yet everlastingly complex.  The smallest of intricacies are so observable, so plain in design, yet so complex in origin. Like any moment that goes unnoticed, it still changes the world even though it is yet unknown to those around it.

View from the Hill

    I can’t explain the movements of the universe, but it’s easy to comprehend the stillness of it all.  We think our ‘life’ is so fast paced and we rush to complete our tasks at hand.  The moments we endure are nothing but fleeting.  In all of our travels, we amount to nothing more than a grain of sand in the beach of time.

    Often we think we are achieving some great thing, but we create these artificial goals in order to feel a sense of completion.  If we aren’t doing something, then we must be doing nothing? Right? In the grand design, we surely must be doing it all to accomplish something desirable and worthy of the time we have spent.  No one ever stops to think that perhaps we are just the ant, shoveling our sand to build the mountain.  But as we all do know, that mountain is easily destroyed by something as simple as a gentle summer’s breeze.

A Book Unread

    This reality eludes me. It’s not because I am sedentary, but because it is ever evolving. There is no way to comprehend all the outcomes of every decision, which makes it all that much more complex. If only it could be imagined, a world with a beginning and an end and we all had a copy of the story. Would life…would the world be that much different?
    All through this place, individuals make their way through the fog, living each day as if it were the previous. Their eyes glazed and their brains functioning at idle. Everyone survives by making their required quota of interactions, going back to a familiar place (home?) and shutting down. This is the story of living, and it is all wrapped up by beginning it again at each new dawn.
    The truth is often overlooked while people emphasize their abilities of pain and love as an explanation for reality. This is often tip-toed around as if being sacred, like these ‘feelings’ are not part of the required daily interactions needed to be considered human by the rest of society. For in a society without love and pain, we simply become beasts? Entering this territory perhaps allows for too much gray to enter a world of light and dark.