I am one voice I am alone
But I hear a ringing in the
Distance, It could be imagined
I could be only one in this land
Of perpetual darkness.
Could there be anyone else but
Me, I hear echoes as if something
Far but near, I am in the vastness
Of a blinding white, There has
To be more to this than me.
"I run in blackness never a direction seen"
"I run though blinded by what isn't seen"
I reach this edge as if a finite space,
Mirrored, contorted images,
An aura of what that which is
Opposite to me.
Running until I hit upon a enclosed space,
I see a detachment of what is viewed.
I'd look upon, as my features blinded
By this reflection of confusion, bathed
In purest puzzlement.*
I touch the boundary
I touch upon the confines
"Yours"*
"Ours"
Palms grasp upon each, a moment of clarity
As what was single parts unite as a merged
Thought of right or wrong, a conscience,
Of two parts that on meeting became the
Same but singularly separated. Voices that
Speak in sync, but always different
together and apart as *one.
