the fear of lack or losing. the fear of the great mystery. what’s just around the bend. the fear you’ve told of and i’ve accepted. the fear that crept in from the west. amongst which I write. without direction of purpose to put words out into the world. set lose to find their place to be bashed and beaten and held close. coveted and loved. scorn and defiled. all for the sake of the give. I may not be what I once was, i’m not. but no apologizes. this is me… born of a mother, grown to a man in a whirlwind. the blink of an eye. let them be. all that I am doesn’t make less of you. it doesn’t harbor angst or precepts or loathing. all that i am is you. all that you are, were and ever will be is me. separation born of illusion and coddled in cast. we are more. we are the breathe we can never take until our last. we are the murmuring pinings of a lost rebellion. a fading glimpse of faith in love
something wells inside me and dims the light. a shadowed flame. that casts darkness. it gathers. smolders. smoke lingers. that moment before the first licks of flame. whispers of rebirth. baptismal flame. banishing all darkness from within. but for now, darkness.