StoryTeller
Iam an Exile.
I take a moment to look back across the vast horizon of my life...faces faces...I dont know you. Amidst the madness that I encountered, amidst the rush and smash and brutality of the collisions of humanity I have witnessed, there have been moments..Love..Passion..Promise. Iam faced with a vision & wherever I turn now I see a vision.
A life spooled out like thread, strength uncertain, length unknown, whether it will cease abruptly or run out endlessly, binding more lives together as it goes, in one instance no more. Twisted into cloth which will clean off sweat, water, blood , tears of these moment.
I who I was & Will always be..nothing more than a storyteller, the teller of truth & lie. If the judgement is to be made on who Iam or what I have done, then so be it.
I sit quietly. I feel the warmth of my own blood on my hands, & I wonder for how long will i continue to breathe. I look at the body of a dead man before me, and I know that in some small way justice is served.
They say a white feather signifies the presence of an angel. I picked it up, thats where dreams come from-Memories of an angel seeping into your head while I slept on my pillow made of white feathers.
Take a breath. Hold it. Release it. Everything must be silent, for when they come, when they finally come for me, we must be quiet enough to hear them.
I take a moment to look back across the vast horizon of my life...faces faces...I dont know you. Amidst the madness that I encountered, amidst the rush and smash and brutality of the collisions of humanity I have witnessed, there have been moments..Love..Passion..Promise. Iam faced with a vision & wherever I turn now I see a vision.
A life spooled out like thread, strength uncertain, length unknown, whether it will cease abruptly or run out endlessly, binding more lives together as it goes, in one instance no more. Twisted into cloth which will clean off sweat, water, blood , tears of these moment.
I who I was & Will always be..nothing more than a storyteller, the teller of truth & lie. If the judgement is to be made on who Iam or what I have done, then so be it.
I sit quietly. I feel the warmth of my own blood on my hands, & I wonder for how long will i continue to breathe. I look at the body of a dead man before me, and I know that in some small way justice is served.
They say a white feather signifies the presence of an angel. I picked it up, thats where dreams come from-Memories of an angel seeping into your head while I slept on my pillow made of white feathers.
Take a breath. Hold it. Release it. Everything must be silent, for when they come, when they finally come for me, we must be quiet enough to hear them.
Really liked your analogy of thread and life.. :)
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