THERE IS NOTHING LEFT TO SHARE, FOR I SHALL HAVE NO MORE:
Can There Be Any Music Within The Ending Of A World?
These motions hold no meaning o me now, for they hold no power over that which I have left undone, as there is nothing left to share, for I shall have no more.
There is no humanity left in me, for it is taken by the voices, shattered by the silent whispers which now dwell within this place. I can hold nothing in, no living spark, no trace of laughter, no hope for better things to come, as I breathe with the slow, cold breath of anger and despair.
I listen to the deluge of loneliness and destruction, to the cinders of Faith and Justice, burning in the wind. The Time of Trial is come, and none shall sway the workings of catastrophe. I stand apart, cold in the bitter recesses of my soul, tormented by illusion and deceived by calamity. I cannot sing within these Shadows of the Encroaching Dark, for I have suddenly become, that which I most had feared.
These motions hold no meaning o me now, for they hold no power over that which I have left undone, as there is nothing left to share, for I shall have no more.
There is no humanity left in me, for it is taken by the voices, shattered by the silent whispers which now dwell within this place. I can hold nothing in, no living spark, no trace of laughter, no hope for better things to come, as I breathe with the slow, cold breath of anger and despair.
I listen to the deluge of loneliness and destruction, to the cinders of Faith and Justice, burning in the wind. The Time of Trial is come, and none shall sway the workings of catastrophe. I stand apart, cold in the bitter recesses of my soul, tormented by illusion and deceived by calamity. I cannot sing within these Shadows of the Encroaching Dark, for I have suddenly become, that which I most had feared.
posted by Valhenstrogg | Wednesday, April 26, 2006
1 Comments:
Another half-hearted entry, with little immediate or enduring purpose, included only as a matter of interest, detailing, as it does, the more fruitless bearings of my disjointed, and precarious, stream of consciousness.
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