—
There is a resonance that binds me to a pattern of ‘once was,’ clinging like the static of time lost to the dread of un-repented ignorance.
I’ve pushed and wailed against that awful dream. I’ve fought my way beyond the scene where now I find myself sorted and fixed upon this nature to be redeemed.
Deep within my flesh, I can feel the pull of memory begging me return to a home no longer mine, as yet it once was. Here within these walls, I so easily return to the state of what has been and so drained is the energy from my bones as the great warring sides of myself remain justly at odds.
I have carried so much of the Past as if it’s weight were my only real value. I cannot fly so long as I am holden to what has been when time was but unchosen and I was under the spell of another’s cast.
I mark the words that carry my senses old, and I bury the stones that had once laid to waste a sovereignty unto myself. Nestled within a container that is meant to be broken, shattered, and buried, I will release these old ways, smashed upon the altar of the ritual fire.
Vanquished at once, I will leave this space not to return until I have set my forward path firmly in the bedrock of the Earth.
I bid this motion dispel all that has been as I choose no longer to see it’s pained face staring back through the eyes I see mirroring me.
I bid a final farewell to what once was.
—
Photo by Gianni Zanato on Unsplash
—