Everything is a form of energy and that's all there is to it, so match it to the frequency of the reality you want, and you cannot help but get that reality. It can be no other way, for this is not philosophy; this is a form of physics. And theory exists, but only works on paper and not in practice.

And with every waking breath I take I can feel a form of sadness and I am able to see what life has dealt to me, and I ask for a taste of something new. Sometimes feeling those chances inside of me die, and causes me to ask for a guiding light to shine into this darkened life of mine as I make my way on down the line and continue to fight against the lies and failures we all know. Just caring about honesty and a chance to be set free with each step taken, and has me looking for a singular touch of divine grace.

Life prepares us for the strangest things, and the dreams of what it can bring are balanced out by being like soulless seeds being dropped on a stony and dry ground in reality. And now I look for a dream of life again, and needing a touch for a divine rush of life to course through me like a fever that runs from my head to my legs. And hearing the smoky fires of memory in my head saying no, and I believe that I can overcome all like I have done in the past. While all those who come near ask whose side am I on? Which has me quoting Dylan the Master of the Language to them; “I define nothing. Not beauty, not patriotism. I take each thing as it is, without prior rules about what it should be!” For behind all things of beauty there is always some kind of pain hidden behind it.

And I have been here in this position before and in many cases there is no one else to blame for the situation, and have managed to lose myself once when I descended into those complicated shadows the first time. Which are darker than could possibly be imagined and have the power to break iron and bend steel. And at times have asked some to be my friend and there have been a few who have been of the all-weather variety, while the others merely stood laughing and hid those baseball bats behind their backs as I lay there bleeding on the ground. Yet, they still had the nerve to call themselves my friend.

Many seem to think I have burned my tomorrows as I stand here inside of today, at the edge of the future. Or have burned my shadows as I was judged for falling after having been either bushwhacked or ambushed by their carefully hidden lies, along with all the crimes and misdemeanors that have never been defined. Still I carry all of the secrets I was told and keep them down deep inside, and been like a keeper of the seals to one-day bear witness against them. I was taught to turn the other cheek but life in it’s cold hard ways had me change that to and eye for an eye, and when I take a beating I stay on my feet.

And still I find myself asking why can’t we be friends? I may not speak right at times, yet I know of what I speak of. And has me keep walking and many times has me not talkin’ and has me blowing some of the bridges I have crossed, and there are those times when I am weary and know that sleep can put lots of things to right. Making it hard to deal with empty and idle conversation and know that most seldom do what they believe in and just do what is convenient, and then repent for doing so. As I head on down the line to the South through those deserts of sunburned earth, and sometimes seeing red as I count as I pray to keep from exploding outward in a pattern under the heat and those blue skies that meet the sun scorched earth.

I understand that every life must end including my own, and there will be a time when it is time to go, as I ask you to stay with me and help me find those answers that have been sought. Both of us have our own sins that are so practiced, as we wonder everyday where these roads will lead to. Knowing that only fear will break the silence and only specters still have any form of pity on the streets of the cities. As I ask if you will still know who you are when you come to find who you are? And will our hopes still have their reasons, when the flames have their season(s)? Out here in what seems to be a land of confusion as the fires burn into the night. With this being the time and place as we make our way down the line to look to the future.

Copyright: Timberwolf International LTD. September 2016 – 43