What is the night but a burning embrace? Embers and darkness, glow in the night...
What is the life but forever a wait? Death, it shall come and get us.
When I close my eyes in the woods when moon does not shine... do I see more or a bit less then? (Don't know.)
My eyes are like fire. Tigress, embrace. Mind is too numb to believe. (Do I dream?)
When was it when things seemed to be so much easier? I think that perhaps never, but right now it's the hardest. I'm lost. I'm mostly just lost. And the only hand that seems to be able to grab mine and guide me... looks like it's just out of reach. (Come back. Please come back.)
I'm nothing without you. Nothing. I've already reached my destination, don't deprive me of my purpose.
Red is the dawn, red is the dusk. See? I know your name. Earth is waiting. You are awake.
The forest is my name, the trees are pieces of my mind; I'm lost in the woods.
I can't find the tree of knowledge.
Also... I'm not sure, but it seems that someone has hewed my precious memories. Some even that I've only just planted. Or maybe they just died while I wasn't looking. Or maybe I took the streams of life they fed on and altered their routes.
I don't know. Cursing oneself isn't a part of the great plan. Calling names is the plan. Unhappiness is a plan. Drawing down a pentagram on blood, with candles of blood blackened in time... Sacrificing oneself for oneself is not a plan. It's stepping off the rails and giving the train a finger. (All the while not being sure where the rails are or where the train is. This might as well be a step forward instead of a sideways step. You never know. Not ever. Not until there's somewhere to go. Anywhere to look at.)
How arrogant should one be to think that it knows life? That it knows life better than the eagles that eat the Sun and the Moon every single day? Yet the hope tingles in the back of the mind, for otherwise all the steps ever taken are taken in vain. Arrogance and vanity shall not be the way forward. Yet there's no reason to take any step at all without the frail hope of meaningless faith.
All we are is dust in the wind. And it seems that the wind has more ways of making it's own decisions than the dust. Useless, pointless, meaningless dust, trying to think for itself and hoping to accomplish something without realising that it's been the wind making decisions for it all along!
Useless. We're all lost in the woods (in the dark woods where moon doesn't shine and where there's nothing to see with open eyes). It's just that some of us realise that and some don't and some of us like it that way (and some of us can see and some can't and some can dream the sun and some look with their eyes closed and that makes all the difference in the world).
I'm more lost when no one is there to guide me with their presence. I'm more lost without the sun that I dream (or is it real? I think it's real.) and with the voices that I hear. I don't hear voices. It wouldn't be as lonely without them, but I'd either loose my way completely with them or they'd show me a sparkling rainbow way out of the woods and into the world and I'd go with them so far that no one could follow and I'd have to bring them with me by forcing them to follow (on a road that they can't see and it would be nasty and wrong and painful. And that would be bad, right? Right? RIGHT???) and that would be bad. Right?
I've got nowhere to go. I'll just play hide and seek with the others while I'm here.
I'll be hide, okay?
Nay. I'll play nicely while I can still grasp the idea and while the forest still grows.
I'm carrying an axe. It's got engravings in runes that I don't read. If it hits me, I'll be covered in shadows. The shadows lurk, hoping for a way in, but it's okay, 'cause I let them in a long time ago and they can nest in my head. Nest and breed and feel and smile. I'll smile with them. Where else should they go? I'll keep them hidden in my head. Safe. Safe from this world where they'd end up hurting someone by an accident. And we wouldn't want that. We get along so nicely. It's only a matter of time they get to trust me (I get to trust them) and they learn (start) to talk with their human minds which they borrowed from me (they have no souls) but only until I want them back (which I don't. Not yet. Not any time soon. Not ever, as far as I can see).
I smile, I dance, I float. I smile. So we'll all be happy. We'll all be free.
We'll all be free.
Pray to me, lost souls. I'll guide you, when I'm ready to follow the road that I cannot yet see.
Smile.
