*Passage best enjoyed while listening to Freedom Blade by This Will Destroy You.
Upon the crescent valleys end where I found myself again.
Upon the beginning point to another jot around the bend. Upon the clandestine
sniffing of which I have found myself a party. And in the entire world, as I’ve
gone a drinking, sniffing the ground for a tap root symphony from to audibly
drink. Not in all the cursing of blessings that I’ve done are there words to
describe what you have done for me. “Found me,” I suppose would do it – or will
have to suffice. You have not run away from me. Succored me from the darkness
as I’ve fought my way to find you. As I’ve clawed my way through familial dew,
through religious indignation, through right and through wrong, through the
depths and across the sky. So, I guess my greatest song is the one I am know
writing, the truth ringing between these ears of mine where I used to hear
nothing.
Not so much aware of myself now as I am born to
myself. Alive in the meaning of ‘self’ in the first place, weeping now for the
days you’ve allowed me, mourning for the thousand tomorrows that my brother’s
will never see. For the fallen, the ones we lost in those crescent valleys, the
ones who will never come home to the suburbs, share a laugh with people who
love them. So, yes, I sing his praise. Yes I will sing his praise. The nameless
incantations and the glasses I will raise. And every free breath that I
breathe, I will make known how wonderful it is to be alive, how beautiful it is
to know you. How sorrowful it is to know
now what I’d wished I’d known then. Won’t believe the homicidal, suicidal,
pesticide lies that once convinced me there where others who needed pleasing
more than you. Magnificent. Glorious you are, O Captain of my
Sorrowful Seas, Speaker of the Winds. To you I sing.

No comments:
Post a Comment