awake when the world is dead
March Break was a turning point for me.
Now I wait. For when the world sleeps I waken. My eyes see the world in silence. My ears hear the cold wind of truth. My touch feels the obsolete comprehension of life. I crave the stillness of the night where the shadows from the streetlight illuminate the walls and my figure appears entranced in motionless serenity. Life is suspended here. Fear is eliminated, hope is abolished, and all emotions are abandoned. You just breathe. And everything makes sense in a matter because nothing is really relevant or important anymore. I wait for this moment. I wait while I'm in this moment, for something that may never come, for something I don't even know exists. Words flow from my mouth that makes everything in life seem so simple and delicate yet still I have no desire for it. I stare at the sky and the houses around, expecting redemption or clarification, a miracle? Everything feels right. I feel free yet oppressed by my wrongdoings and damnation. I feel the agony from my corrupted demolishing soul. I feel the torturous regret of my self-conscience heart. The bitter reminder of failed relationships and disappointments still to come. And still I haven't a care. It all means nothing here. And so I wait. Ever so patiently to be in inconceivable time.
Now I wait. For when the world sleeps I waken. My eyes see the world in silence. My ears hear the cold wind of truth. My touch feels the obsolete comprehension of life. I crave the stillness of the night where the shadows from the streetlight illuminate the walls and my figure appears entranced in motionless serenity. Life is suspended here. Fear is eliminated, hope is abolished, and all emotions are abandoned. You just breathe. And everything makes sense in a matter because nothing is really relevant or important anymore. I wait for this moment. I wait while I'm in this moment, for something that may never come, for something I don't even know exists. Words flow from my mouth that makes everything in life seem so simple and delicate yet still I have no desire for it. I stare at the sky and the houses around, expecting redemption or clarification, a miracle? Everything feels right. I feel free yet oppressed by my wrongdoings and damnation. I feel the agony from my corrupted demolishing soul. I feel the torturous regret of my self-conscience heart. The bitter reminder of failed relationships and disappointments still to come. And still I haven't a care. It all means nothing here. And so I wait. Ever so patiently to be in inconceivable time.