Rise, mountain.

In between crossroads, paths of forlorn hope.

Embittered and dirty, sweet moonshine pass me the soap.

Scrape and brush, until the molasses at last comes out.

Although an angry flood has consumed us, we seem to be in the midst of an emotional drought.

For rarely is there a connection with the eyes that I lock with upon these cold steel streets.

Many of those I encounter would rather hang their heads in defeat, and wait for a vice to numb and lift that load from their aching backs, for it is there where they keep.

Loss, grief and dreams in a small cracked vial.

In the bottom drawer of a forgotten room within the imaginary castle.

Denial, for I am not on trial. This is a mere cascading ripple that is consuming me once more in a rather vicious cycle.

Smile for the time being, trust me, play it cool and do not dial.

The number of the lonely and unsuited child who will bring destruction and vile bile.

Style, is that what we have become, a forgotten trend?

For at times it seems as though we are at the end of a long bend.

A bender to portray the last breath of a darkened night sky.

Awaken to a new day, golden silence overwhelms my brittle body as I simply lie.

Photons and neutrons, simple scientific terms.

Light and connection, in the broader scheme of things, is that which I most certainly do yearn.

Yearn to see past this state of mind, low and behold, what you make of this moment is what you shall ultimately find.

In the interconnected dream we share, there may not be time to constantly unwind.

For if pieces are not added to the puzzle collectively then we are left with an incomplete photo suspended within this moment in time.

Scrape and splash. Rinse and repeat. Once more and then I shall possibly feel complete.

Only to rise tomorrow, unto a new and unknown dawn.

Even if everything external is mirror perfect and I reside within the same dome that sits upon my frozen lawn.

The only difference today from until then is the simple choice.

To ignite a flame within and reveal a hidden voice.

For if you do not scream when the parasites of pain are eating at you.

Then who will know other than you, the darkness consuming your heart, the epic battle waging through and through.

For as part of the verse, your chord must strike true.

Make a commitment at last to rid yourself of the one thing you can choose to.

Scrape the despair, soak and dry the pain. Know that your path is never in vain.

As a single cell can make the difference in the end.

Acknowledge that only you can choose between allowing your path to mend or continue to bend.

Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed then please do share. Posts will be regular until the new year. Then I will be undertaking a major project. More news on that in the future.

As always, sending you light through love,

Brandon.

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