The endless clock

The tick of the endless clock that is the heart of the world is echoing my in weary ears. Dawn after darkness comes to me time and time again signalling the birth of one day , the death of another. Why do we dance upon the thin wire that is life to the beat that time provides us. Ever will that confuse me, torment me and define me. The hovering shadow that is time, the shackle on the chain that we as humanity are forever bound. Such odd thoughts fill my mind this night.

In My Time Of Need

The flight in the darkness is a lonely one, freedom does not come without a price as I have said. The weight of my loneliness drags on my aloft body. Only the darkness and her image keeps me moving forward. The path I walk is far from the mass horde of mind washed creatures that still walk the viens of the decaying body of the long dead god. When my wings fail me and I fall to the solid ground. The cold solid ground. she comes to me, in my time of need in my time of loss of purpose and joy. I don't mean to sound as if I some entwined man haunting this woman but her kindness touched me in ways no healing could. Perhaps I shall make it to my destination my unknown soul's direction. Stay with me in this time ...

Ergo ...Therefore what?

An end undefined except defined as a conclusion. The sentence unfinished, the purpose lost, and freedom gained. This is what I consider the world I have come to reside within. The tunnel beneath the flesh of the decaying god that bound this realm within me has given way to free boundless sky. The plummet is eminent, the darkness breaking through to light and emptiness but at what the cost. The cost is in itself assurity, destiny, fate, the knowledge that no matter what you do the path you walk is predefined. This is the cost, though some claim to be ready to proceed are truly shaking within themselves at the thought they may need to trend within the jungle of the universe and cut their own path. They fear to sprout their wings and carrying their own souls to a place of boundless choice and consiquences we can not blame upon a creator or god but our own soul.

Well I feel the warm enticing trickle of crimson upon the flesh of my back as my wings do sprout, nothing comes without sacrifice and my past is my offering. May it burn with the memory of the dead and fading for they are a shackle upon my conscious. My feet leave the pulsing ground of this decaying flesh and I reach the darkening skies, who will join me in the awaiting world and dream?

Another halloween

Ghouls and goblins walk the street and laughter fills the air. Well that is the idea anyway. It's interesting the thoughts I have when watchig the goings on of the world. I always wonder if the costumes we pick represent our inner self or is it what we want it to be. Also the idea that those without costumes are suddenly the odd ones, the normal people are the outcasts for this one day. Guess I should feel more at home during halloween.

It's also said that halloween is the one day that if you pray hard enough and repent long enough those trapped in purgatory may find their way to heaven. Something tells me no matter how much I pray I'll escape this purgatory, not that I will ever pray for an escape. Dispite it's short comings the world I have made for myself isn't all bad, death may be an escape , and end that will trigger a beginning but all comes in due time. I will see what this place, this world has in store for the lost soul I possess.