There are moments when I hunger for kindness. There are others when I wish for damnation. Both are drawn from the same source, a deep selfishness that craves proof of its own existence.
I walk now down the shaded road of another's making. The wilderness of trees and the quiet savagery of mountains do not call me. I linger on sea thoughts and the foamy sound the wind makes over the grass. Ahead, there is the path but turning around, I see a chaos of colors. Where have I been? Am I really on the way?
The bruise on my head stains my vision of the sky, changes the light of day, scars my friendship with men. It will never heal.
Tired of walking, I lay back against the breeze. Where is that first darkness? Where are my yearnings? Oddly enough, I tumble down to the delta where I fail to pinpoint where the river ends and the ocean begins.
 germanicus2 · Fri Aug 29, 2008 @ 04:49am · 1 Comments |
