Round Sounds.

Fluctuating as of late and conflicted with my own existence.

Not that I am scourged with pestilence nor am I haunted by ebony memories and how they have fragmented.

Fragmented away and throughout my entirety, no on the contrary this statement mustn’t be a fallacy.

For if it is true to you then in the end it most certainly true to me.

A lock or a key, which shall we be? Collectively and individually, what is the way for this predicament to burn infinitely, setting us at last free.

Free as the birds and as content as a bee. That is what drives me to be what I have always been meant to be, an expression of change and a paradigm waiting to unwind, for if I were any more than Human, would that separate our earthly ties?

As desperation leads to exhaustion and exhaustion leads to the final execution, make note that this is in fact not a mere delusion, it is an idea, one that has not yet cemented itself as fact.

As dreams are the simple seed implanted within like a distant or lost memory, one that pushes us to manifest the mental energy into this physical reality.

This is what we do each and every day in which we draw breath, take a step in the correct direction so that we may move ahead. Speak your name to the sky, never fear nor be filled with dread, for the greatest nemesis that we possess sits upon a throne in our own head.

Lead. Steel. Molten lava. Carbon

Four elements that encompass the spirit within at this moment, disrupt the meditation at your own discretion.

For there is a lesson to be learned from all this sitting. Watching. Listening. As though I am the one that I always miss but should be addressing.

As I am searching for a way far out. One that will lead me to the salty sea so that I may taste the oceans mystical scent upon my primal snout.

For I have been howling within. Which is why in reality I growl. Recently rather than go for the hunt, I simply prowl about. My jungle, the one that raised and caged me. The one that ultimately set me free. Where I am firmly rooted yet also constantly burn down my own tree.

Only to find myself whispering to the stars among the ashes. As soon as I fall down I am greeted by my shadow telling me there is no room for another apparition in this position, I am inclined, rather pushed towards my date with fate, where I face my daily disposition.

For I am the silent witch as well as the bloody inquisition. One who harnesses the magic within if only to then question my new decision.

Flames and chains.

They are consistently in my dreams, what do it mean when nothing is ever as it seems?

Feathers and golden lights.

These two objects chase me through the twilight, to fight the prison with or simply take flight, this is a question I have not yet answered, which causes me an unspoken plight.

To be or to simply meld. The weight alone is held upon my back. Year by year it continues to stack. Only once I find myself in the meadow staring at the fork of a hidden path, will I know that at last I am on track.

Sending you light through love,

Brandon

Categories Personal Thoughts, poetryTags , , ,

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