Thoughts wonderfully impotent and irrelevant swirl. Tangled webs of spiraled miracles in time.
How I got here fades in light of upcoming events.
Meretricious convictions serve people well. I throw them in with the rest of the trash.
The perennial exhaustion is fraying my patience and my perseverance. Brumal darkness serves as a catalyst of my own murk.
Apocryphal warmth fills the spaces in between my soul and mind.
I don’t trust the road ahead, its end shrouded in dubiety. But I am shiftless, I can’t change course and South isn’t a better direction anyway.
I staple commitments to my chest, so I don’t lose them, and take up my cape. After all, the quest is the eternal adventure of life.
What I earned fits in one moss-green pouch. Hence-armed, my emotions stuck under my belt, my wisdom pinned to my flap, my feet clad in boots of principle, I walk out into the open field and let the winds attempt to knock me down.
“I've betrayed the whole concept of ground right there for standing.”
