Standing here against a wall slumped in defeat after having heard every word that had been said that night, when an ear to the wall was nothing more than a twist of fate to have been able to hear all that those voices said. And it has been said that sticks and stones will break my bones still there is the power that words have to cut and maim, as I now see the reflections in memory of who and I what once was back in the beginning of all things when I was younger. Now things aren’t so clear except when these moments arrive like when I wake up with a blue moon in my eyes, and I am wondering if maybe I need the cure of Dr. Tarr and Prof. Phether to be able to see the wrong way and the right way? Counting as I pray as the memory of what I once was sinks like crystal fragments into a deep well of forgetfulness.

Heard them say that there would be emotion and as usual they weren’t specific as to what those emotions might be. Yet no man can be my equal just better than I can ever be even if I carry my power and my life in my own hands, as I feel anxiety chronicle uncertain reverberations of attachment that ripple like when a pebble is cast on still water. And there seems to be a deeply hidden latent desire for void after seeing one drag oneself and sink in darkness. Carrying the feeling of one being damned like all the years spent with empty time and empty feelings that sit there, like something that’s lost and deeply buried in the spirit of life that seems to come out when the nights stretch out, when the demons come forth hitting with the force sometimes of a shotgun blast.

Once it seemed as if I had angels watching over me but it seems that those days are now past, as I just seem to expect nothing anymore but the sharp pleasure of disappointment that seems to always be there. While freedom seems to be drifting away as I continue to try and win with that losing hand, I was dealt a long time ago, and at times see visions of those things shadows manage to cloak and wonder who will remember or call my name? Though the hour may be drawing late still judgments that were made by him and them will never be allowed to bend, and it might be darker than all think here in these complicated shadows but I never bent or folded instead I was shattered. As I stand here in the ruins in the aftermath of what hit and I might look fine but scars are the only thing left of me.

The time is drawing near to closing the books and the burning of the plans that were made that lay on the tables, and I know I will drink when thirsty and eat when I am hungry and try to live upon the square as I head on down the line. Towards the clearing that is there at the end of all paths as I begin to make my way down the road for the final time, with no looking back as doors are closed and locked as all emotion is leeched away as I head through the ruins, and not caring if I hit any of the mines that were planted in the fields outside the ruined fortress that once stood here. As I glance up and see the tattered rag that was my pennant flying stiffly in the wind from the remaining battlements, and as I begin stepping off as I hear the old cadence count in my head of pick them up and put them down and count off 1, 2,…3, 4! And feel those blue tears that will never dry stream from my tired eyes knowing I may never rise up again.

Having had the judges all frown as sentence was passed as the siege guns fired once again with deadly accuracy, and saying goodbye to those, I have known and losing every dream that I ever had as the night watches me make my way.

Once I was told that the living would envy the dead as I try to walk tall as I seem to hang on to the edge of my destruction, as I ask those I pass not to get up as I am only passing through and noting that all is not silent in the halls of the dead. Heading South across land traveling through the day and the night seeing light in the distance with darkness at my side, as I see those scars I carry as a reminder of all that has ever happened that the sun’s dark light will never heal, and in just one instant all is seen insufficient light that reveals the darkest corners giving peace to the anxious void. As I am feeling love lying bleeding in my hands as I measure off each step and pushing myself harder with each mile.

Just like when the blues descended and walked on through as all changed and some being gone now and forever, and nothing has any reason or rhyme anymore just this final trip down this old unknown road with this being the final exam, as the darkness makes itself felt more profoundly than the crumbling ruins of the city fortress I have left behind me. Will I be like either one of the jesters or harlequins and feel the scorn they have felt in that dark courtyard in the North? Or be just like what was in that mirror on the shelf where the reflection of a grimace can be seen?

Looking down as I make my way I see the remains of those handmade playing cards I found one day, when I came out of the station in what turned out to be a true fool’s errand that I later threw away as I admitted the error. Yet unlike me they seem to be survivors even if nothing but fragments are left as I try not to let them see me crawl, and wondering if I will end up as an amusement in the sideshow as they all jeer and laugh at what I have been and become? Seeing how far I have fallen and recovered to slip and fall once again as I turn my back to the wind heading down the line, as situations run through my head and looking back finding I was a fool to have had my heart opened up to all the ridicule. I only wish I could have seen all as clear as I do now when I admitted freely to all the mistakes I have made.

There must be someway out of here and away from all of the confusion as there must be some relief to be found, and with the hour drawing late as I wonder if there is any sense in trying? Knowing that many think life is nothing but a joke, after having dealt with all the scorn and seen those waterfalls of pity roaring nearby as disillusioned words are fired. And easy to see that nothing is sacred anymore as I stand here with nobody here as questions with no answers rise up. As I see there are things that have put me in a position where I have nothing more to live up to or to try and achieve, and hearing those voices I heard by a twist of fate now gargling with the rest in the rat race choir as they defend their actions, like when I was allowed to be a friend and guard of those dreams and visions that were once something to die for.

Having taken that last chance and found myself now out here on an unknown road heading to where I feel I must be going, and knowing that no one cares or gives a damn as I head down it to the clearing at the end of the paths and Death’s honesty. And wondering if I will ever be remembered or if my name will ever be called again as blinds are pulled when I am felt near, and know others will never truly know what I feel as they think it all a game as I feel the dark side calling and all is surreal. So this is how all stands now as cries of pain have been ignored as I fall apart and maybe return to that of what we all are.

Now feeling the tar warm beneath my feet as I watch the light of hope pass over me as I step over the wreckage of dreams. As I take and use my life as I slowly lose all and feel the question of why as I think of the LAST love of my life. Now becoming the Orwellian Concept of vaporization as I hear the Nuremberg answer and it’s equivalent(s) given, to all that is asked as a reply to any and all things.

Copyright May 2009 – 18: Timberwolf International LTD.