The numbness is burnt away like hair in a fire. Before me; before all of us, this emptiness is not nothing. It's waiting to become something. While the space between parts is still great, every step we take together, every heartbeat that courses through us, burns away the nothing.
It is here, in the very heart of the uncaring, that we come alive. Where our once whole world came apart and gave birth to this quiet darkness, we tread, and in turn rend it asunder as was once done to ours. Although we tread alone, in this endeavor we are together, and on occassion, we find each other's footsteps among the stars and the cold. Within us glows the same purpose, the same benevolence, the same caring. Within us, it glows, but only in this dark place.
This is our purpose, and our place. We walk along the edge of this Void, and this World. At the very edge of what is, and what is not, you will find us, walking and thinking.
1 comment:
It's funny that you should ask that. I'm supposed to be picking up a guitar any day now (when I get some free time), and I already have a stack of lyrics. My problem, and it's plagued me since I was a child, is that I can't create, follow, or alter rhythms. Something that could be corrected with practice, so we'll see.
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