Sing the Sorrow

Though these flames were not ignited by me, I continue to retrieve kindling from the woods.  I surrender myself to their throes.  Though I did not incite this war, I still vainly brandish my blade at ghosts.  The clash of steel perpetuates still the song which deafens me.  This fire was the furnace which tempered these manacles – yet I forged them therein, and bound them upon myself.

The maelstroms submerged me, and cast me to this perdition – yet I crafted and steered the vessel, and chose my crew.  My own imperfection damns me here.  I suffer because I deserve nothing more.  I am a shadow framed by the light because I will not bear my own torch, and blaze a way through the abyss – because I will not stray beyond the confines of this map, which guides me along my cyclical, directionless path. My abjection is my own.

I define myself by the absence of meaning.

2 thoughts on “Sing the Sorrow

  1. mrock says:

    Oh, it does make my heart ache. I so identify with what you wrote and the powerful lyrics to that song, but I can’t allow myself to go there. If I did, I doubt I would ever be able to piece together any kind of life. And as long as I’m alive, I think it’s worth struggling to live.

    Very powerful. You are an elegant (and gifted) writer. Thank you.

    • Thank you so much, again. I guess we all struggle to live in different ways – the only way for me is to greet the darkest shadows, and concede my most entrenched weaknesses, in order to overcome them. That is the only way for me to find clarity and serenity amidst the fury of discord – to find completion beyond the scattered pieces.

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