The Saga - PRW

I began with a step. It began with a step in the wrong direction, and now I take a step onto the path. It is deep, deep in my heart on a path not tread und overgrown. The weeds infect and choke and I am dieing.
Deep it goes and deeper still leading in and down; up and out. Until finally you ascend and the breath of life you’ve waited for comes. Where is that breath? It is the cold chill of a fresh morning. When does my dawn come? When will the final darkness end? Can I look into your eyes without these evil shaded glasses and not see the tears flooding my lungs? The flood is choking my skin and feeding the hate. The hate feeds the darkness, I am the darkness. I am the evil I have chosen to become. Where is my resurrection and where is your revenge? Where is death so sweet to end the bitter taste I placed in my bones? Will you feed off my skin? Will you cleanse me?
Let the flood be a baptism. Let the death be life. Let your breath bring fire. Let me burn.
Open up my eyes. If they mirror my soul then the reflection can light this path not tread.
I take the step. No, I cannot walk anymore. I am paralyzed by my evil heart. Here I am, here I am stand, and here I will die.
Move me. Can you move me? Will you move me? Move me.
It began with a step and ended with a fall. Pride never came it was already here. So was the fear. The compensation is the frame of reference for the lonely, lost, and weak. I am lost. I am lonelier than be before.
Lonely is never alone. The lonelier you feel the more you are surrounded by the ones you love that don’t love you. You quiet the voice you should hear by drowning auditory reflections with auditory defecation.
I am the creative auditory defecator. I spout with no steam. The warm liquid is not my own. It is the slow replications of the lost souls finding solace in the darkness. There they curl up, safe and sound, holding onto the vestiges of goodness, slowly dieing – both the souls and mine. The good dies here, wrapped in my quiet fear.
Lost? Are you lost? Are you lost like me? Are you lost? Lost?
Are you lost? Let the souls of the fallen soldiers take yours and let their merit bear you up to heaven, while the evil pulls you down, down, down, down, down, down, down and further down to hell. Hell, where is hell. Is it somewhere between 1st and 2nd Street? Is it somewhere in the Gaza Strip? Jordan? New Orleans? Kreuzberg? Baghdad? Murambi?
Can we rise? Raise ourselves up? Or will we all fight for who goes first? Who is the best in the world? Is it he who has suffered the most? Or he that has received the most? And what did he receive? Is our savior the aborted child or Warren Buffet? Buffet for no one? This is not all you can eat, this is all he can gain and is it ever enough. Does Warren sleep better at night than the old bearded man in the card board house?
Let me scream, let me die, let me feel, let me provide an explanation for the stagnation, let me prove my worth, let me shoot it down, let me drown in my misery, let me lose, let me win, let me go, let me stay, let me be, let me be me, let me be what I think I should be, let me be what I want to be, let me be what I want, let me be what I need, let me be what I crave, let me be a slave, let me be you, let me have a choice, let me let me go away.
Let me get away.
Let me get away from myself.
Let me get where I can be free.
Let me take the step that starts it all.
It started with a step in the darkest of hearts. My heart is dark. It is found in my chest. The ribs start caving in as the crash breaks me free, but this is going the wrong way.
Take the step. Take the jump; feel the air rash passed your face.
Take the plunge, into the fear. The unknown is here. Let me open up to your locked door. Let me let my armor down. Will you let me let me let my armor down? Or won’t you?
Let me give you my armor. John was right the sword is too heavy to bear. Let me give you my sword. You said you wanted it, but not yet. But my time has come and now has gone. And I am weak.
When I rise I fall, and when I fall you raise me up to fight again. The last strength will come, and come again until it’s done.
How will the saga end? When the hero dies it will be someone else’s battle and he will be the side character to their victory.
I am still the hero, my battle is not done; but the time of the black night must end. When will the dawn come? I will end on my knees, willingly or beaten down – but it is hard to give up the offensive stance, and my defensive end. I will take you down and then I will fall. The plunge is near. But when you rise with healing your wings, will I be there? Can I be there now?
Heal my wings and teach me to fly with you.
Let the end be the sunrise as we ascend into the clouds together to reach the heavens. To shed ourselves of the life lost and left behind - the life that dragged me down. The life I lead myself down to.
But it was a step. A step that started it all, on an overgrown path; it was the path of least traversing. I want to travel down that path. Where does it lead? Where is the fantasy now? I want the suspension of belief. Where is the magic trick? We all want to believe in something more, but we all want to live free. Free of the consequence of it all. The consequence of true freedom; freedom from ourselves and freedom to live our lives the way that we should; it the way we truly need to live but we won’t. Cut the branches that tie you down, cut the vines that choke your throat; let the breath of life come in and shed the light on your lungs that the blood you pump is free and clear. It is now clean to go about your body and cleanse. Let it burn you clean. Let it take your soul and purify it like gold in fire. You are golden. You will shine like stars in the sky. You are stars in the sky. You are seated in heaven. You are seated in heavenly placed. You are seated on high. You are free. You are free to fly. You are free to live and free to die. His love sets you free. His love sets you free. His love sets you free.
The saga never ends. It goes and goes. It boils in your blood, until you are running kike the flood you are running. You are running. You are running free again. You are the brook running over the mountain. You are running free. You are running free again. Breathe in the cold morning air. You are free and clear to fly.
Spread your wings and fly. Go land in his wings. Nestle in his arms. Sleep in his hand. Hold him in your heart and he will encompass you.
Suspend your belief. Suspend your reasons.
The sage never ends. The sage never ends. The sage never ends.

December 5, 2009