I march alone,
a flaming candle,
clasped within shaky hands,
as I travel the rocky path,
of the darkest hour,
searching for my lost companion.
The intensity of the winds,
blow with invisible ferocity,
attempting to extingiush,
my only source of light,
in the obscurity of this journey,
to find what is no longer mine.
The cluttered valley of stones,
sporadic and jagged,
engenders my feet to lose,
their sight to guide me,
as a shadow blinds them,
stumbling with the challenge,
of yet another obstacle.
Raindrops stain my skin,
tingling through my core,
like an icy kiss of death,
burning my torso.
An intangible blazing arrow,
splicing through the hearth,
of my being,
trembling with fatigue,
as I fall to my knees.
Despite the weakness,
of my quivering limbs,
I now stand upon two feet,
unwavering in the harsh atmosphere,
engulfing my petite frame,
as I glance in all directions,
to behold what I have lost.
Unfortunately I shall never reach,
the one I once yearned,
to travel the vast lands with,
as our destinies collide,
but betrayal leaps from a canister,
opened by the hands,
of a ***** friend choosing to become,
my nememsis,
as a vile murky sludge bursts out,
of the jar.
Putrid animosity creeps out,
spreading upon my trusting soul,
like the black plague,
relentless with thorns of corruption,
leaving me to make no other choice.
The toxic Substance,
leaves me with a distaste,
burdened at the loss,
of what I seek;
Nausea sweeps across my bridge,
of loyalty,
wishing abandonment,
is not the lyrics,
I must sing to remain,
in the palms of safety.
Loooking behind me is not an option,
fleeing to an unexpected direction,
a turn resulting in a shift,
of purpose in my investigation,
of life beyond the rudiments,
I thought to be the focus,
guiding me.
Feelings of Isolation,
begin to blossom,
until I realize my possession,
of the lit candle,
my fingers cling to,
restoring balance.
As I lift my gaze,
away from the dancling flames,
of fire,
I feel the desire,
to trust my intuition,
always drifting through,
the entirety of my chimerical mind.
Instincts take over me,
driving meto paint,
the world carrying the fruits,
of a visually compelling existence,
as I encounter the joys,
of a voice entertaining my ears,
the fiery memories,
emblazoning a scuplture,
moving me to create new stories,
sniffing the tantalizing aroma,
of Wild roses,
conjuring a persona,
bravely foolish enough to chance,
the tide Swirling,
with a sea of opportunities.