Don't Look Back - Date Unknown

I've never been very good at letting go, but then again that’s why I’m so good at keeping things together. 

I suppose I’ve lost sight of that for some time now, and the longer I’m caught in this grasp, the more I start to wonder if it’s finally time to loosen my grip, to give up, to finally break a promise I never thought I would break.  I've become like those foolish old men I used to admonish for their stubborn ways, lost, chasing a world dead and gone long before they are.  Some are lucky and they find their time in the world, their place in the mix of it all, but so many more are standing on the shores of time waiting for the impossible to return.  Like good patron saints their dedication is unquestionable as they stare into the void of what used to be and wait for death to take them away from this world they can’t cope with.  Unlike them it’s not too late for me to find a new way, to cut these losses and move on without the burden of what will never be.  But the only way is forward, and maybe the only hope, is to let go and never look back.

Thunder - Date Unknown

The storm always brings a lot with it.

More often than not, it brings along thoughts of you, thoughts of how we used to dance around in this rain for hours without little care for much else.  Now I'm standing out here alone in this darkness waiting for the thunder to come, so when it finally fills the air and shakes me to my heart, I can call out your name and hope it will be carried across the sky to somewhere you might hear it.  Part of me knows you’re out there listening to the sounds of the rain, listening for that faint whisper of your name…. 

The other part of me though, thinks I’m a fool to bother, that even if this whisper could reach her, you wouldn't be listening anyways.  Still, like the young boy I once was I try to carry the best of my hopes out from my dreams and into the real world.  I try, despite how much better I know, to hope that someday you might be brought back to me.  That perhaps like the shamans of the old I can summon you back from the dark, back to where I need her most. Have I just become a victim to the delusions of this dark magic?  The false sense of power it brings to us in our times of need?  Or do I keep coming back out here because I can’t stop thinking about you, and that part of me knows, more than anything, that you're out just waiting to hear your name.

Virtue - Date Unknown

There’s a simple reason why men like us carry these burdens on our shoulders. 

We simply can't bear the sight of virtue lying in the mud when there’s no one else left to carry them anymore.  It’s sad, but the truth usually is.  What happens when even the most dedicated of saints can’t keep up the fight anymore?  When the pointlessness sets in and leaves our foundations in ruin?  When not all the good will left in the world is enough to lift us up and carry our way of life any further?  I suppose it then becomes a question of dying by virtues side, or going on in a world without it.  Some things we’re willing and able to do without, now I am left asking myself if this is really one of them or is the road ahead one I’m just not willing to go down?  How long have I been here asking myself this?  I guess all that really matters is the journey towards the answers, trying to figure out the awful mess so that maybe still, even after all this, something good can still be found.

Restlessness - No Date

Restlessness… 

That’s the only word I have for it. 

The night has left me sleepless, alone, and that sweet soft drawl that always makes my eyelids heavy, is nowhere to be found. Instead all I’m left with is emptying thoughts rattling around my head like thunder in the night. Questions that scream so loud I can’t even sit quietly in the dark and try to find my way to some rest. 

This thirst has me tossing, turning, pacing through these halls until I can’t take it anymore. It truly is a maddening feeling to be a prisoner to your own head like this, to know that I have little choice but to face the fact that this thing won’t put up with the games I've been playing anymore. 

Cigarettes don’t really help, but they give me something to lie to myself about. After a while I’m out on the streets watching the city while it sleeps. I can’t help but be overcome with a sense of jealousy in the stillness of it, how even the most awful of beasts can find peace… What does that make me? Something worse? Does it even matter?  At the end of the line I am still just a lost boy out in the night trying to find his way to a home that isn't there anymore, wandering with pockets full of false purpose. 

Despite this, the twilight always takes me in with open arms. Maybe that’s why I keep coming back to her like this. She never cares why I’m here, or judges me for the sins that keep me in her lonely embrace, she’s just content another one of her children has found his way back to her. Like any comfort though, the night comes and goes. She can’t be here for me when the sun sends her hiding for cover, then I am just left to another day, exhausted and no closer to finding any answers to keep the nights like these at bay.