Dark Room
December 18, 2024
Can the blood that flows within escape as it congeals and clots, hardening the soul and weighing down the spirit until the bones of little
Can the blood that flows within escape as it congeals and clots, hardening the soul and weighing down the spirit until the bones of little
Hollow echoes of a forgotten past cascade through the empty chambers of the heart. The sound of the rumble is always felt but never heard.
We are neither alive nor dead, but caught between the very shifting void of our own life. For life is our air and death is
In the light of the day, in the darkness of night, between the shimmering moonlight and the rays of the early dawn. Between the droplets
As the dew holds firmly to its nightly companion, and as the dawn slowly approaches, a fear of release begins to cascade. Fear of loss,
Within the seas of the endless divide, crossing the void into the unknown of our souls. Within the grasping of time, we come to know
I walk through the darkness as the ever-cascading sounds of terror fill the air. Fear creeps ever closer, climbing the ladder of oneself; fear of
The light shines into the recesses of the heart, slowly infusing life into the hidden caverns of the soul. Empty vessels are once again imbued
The heart speaks the melody of the breeze and whispers the words of life. To be, to love, within its thoughts, holds tight the warmth
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