Standing amidst smoking ashes, I find myself in the crater of memories.
In peace — scatter yourself among the fireflies. They burn brightly as they dim quietly into the night. I gaze into the unknown, enlightened by both unsatisfied lust and a great gluttony. Not knowing; the vestige of desire warranted by the flames that struck my core for the past year.
For one more time; let me write this passage of truth to squeeze every drop of the mind. I will resist the dark no longer; I’ll sustain the abomination of needs despite the lack of comfort. I never felt more afraid to face the upcoming wave of uncertainty — all I fear are the empty promises built on the foundation of lies.
Despite all my fears, I have to ignite the spark, plug the piston, and trigger all the motors. It is the only thing I have of myself.
For all my life — I was questioned of my validity. I stood once in the face of death — with or without the voice of others; I spat death’s very own hook and I bashed through the devil’s whispers. Never in my entire life have I lay dead in signs of weakness, giving up to the animosity that drives the madness that runs slowly in my blood.
Alone — it has always been like this; nothing ever really changes. So why in the race against my own will must I be reminded of the suffering that got hold of me for a brief moment? I will not give in anymore; I have lived far too long to be beaten into submission; and for the past 25 years — it has yet to find a way to break through the barricades.
And alone — I will continue to pave the flames that were unwilling to burn the engine. I would smash the gears into existence; if it meant that the metals would crack and bend in an unfamiliar way. I’ve done it this way before; what’s stopping me now? A great looming shadow of the prospective future I no longer foresee, all because I was too blinded by the truth?
I was cursed by my selfish agenda, proven by the propaganda I developed to turn down the process of recovery. But — the question remains: ‘Which is better; to be born good? or to overcome your evil with great effort?’
I will imprison the great evil with greater effort — as I stood amidst smoking ashes; I found myself in the crater of memories that was dug a trench deep, only by my own.
As above; so below. Only then — maybe then I’ll be fully complete.
The engine has spun — love did wither, and what’s left are the crusty memories remaining to be wept by the combustion of the embers. Time will tell, only when what I’ve felt was no longer an embargo of question resided within; but the independence to wield and control my life creeps in the mask I wore.
