Barely human

Upon censoring our thoughts and feelings we slowly start to lose all that our humanity has taught us to be.

Tapestries

I looked at him with eyes that held a belief that had been fashioned at the very beginning of time, when creation first began to breathe. In transitory relapse, I stood alone, oblivious to the onlooking spectres that veered past this communion of the unborn. Perhaps wisdom had granted them a justice in their awareness of the abyss into which they were certain to fall. A path they had chose, connected, and in the thread to which we are bound.

The devil himself remained aloof to the ploy, amused by the wanderings of man and the subtleties through which they gave life unheld command. It was a road of the living to create. And that of the dead to bless, with bowed heads, in a light they struggled to weave.

Within already hung tapestries, folded lines ride through our tales as we filter within the layers of the untold. Let their work unfold for I am yet to be, unheard, as I lay tethered and sat upon the ground.

There Can Be No Name...

It's thrilling, isn't it? This realisation, this form that heralds the awakened. From the chaos that nature brings and within the winds sweeping to change, in finality, this is to what it comes. With fumbled hands rewoven and stilted words reborn, we leave to display our design, our final piece to be played. Indeed, it is the end of a beautiful turn. The music sheets flutter to the ground as our roles solidify into the theatrical pieces we are yet to perform. It is time..

As I step barefoot onto the stage and take my place, slowly turning to face the hungry eyes, I smile. I am ready to hold my own.

It is not the fear that drives me, nor their expectations of what is to be, but it is the joy to which I lose myself upon hearing the notes begin to hum; a distant whisper of a dancing within the soul. All within a moment, alive.

Nothing can take away that which you make for yourself. And so, let me begin...