" ..Demons speak of the way in which you manifest.. "
We met more than ten years ago, when I walked the path he trod himself in the very same place.
Now when we speak of it we marvel at the echoes in our stories, the replaying of the patterns set.
There was always something about the way we watched each other over the years. I hid in my deepest self, and he hid in the shadows, to and from places of consequence. And yet we always saw each other, when none others could perceive us.
He was one of the few I always felt a tugging from, a need of purpose.
I was one of the very few he ever touched in passing.
And as the years turned our paths crossed again, and the echoes came home to roost like lost bats.
Reflections in the same broken mirror.
It's been far too long.
Whatever happens now, I cannot lose part of myself. I cannot lose him again.
Now when we speak of it we marvel at the echoes in our stories, the replaying of the patterns set.
There was always something about the way we watched each other over the years. I hid in my deepest self, and he hid in the shadows, to and from places of consequence. And yet we always saw each other, when none others could perceive us.
He was one of the few I always felt a tugging from, a need of purpose.
I was one of the very few he ever touched in passing.
And as the years turned our paths crossed again, and the echoes came home to roost like lost bats.
Reflections in the same broken mirror.
It's been far too long.
Whatever happens now, I cannot lose part of myself. I cannot lose him again.