I find myself deep in a trance. Vacant of all emotions except one. Fear, it pulsates throughout my veins. Like liquid lava devouring my entire being. It’s just a simple memory from years long due. But it stings deep into my soul. Stabbing at the person I am trying to be. Bringing out the person I want to bury. Time has yet to bring me ease. With wounds that bleed and scars that cease to fade. . .
While the future is unclear, I sense something great is coming. I sense it near. A feeling deep within my bones. I cannot seem to shake. I find myself doubting by own abilities. The wind whispers great warmth that tingles my skin from head to toe. The air smells of amazing release to which freedom burns within my body. These moments are so few. Strike at my memories. This reel is never-ending. Pierce thru me in every way possible. Cut me with your blades. I can only gasp for air as tears suffocate my porcelain face. And the blood drains slowly from my veins. Yes, I am fragile. No I am not broken. I am stong. I am human. My strength is my weakness. Eternal, without fear. My tears deceive me. Yet my stride falters at each step. My feet feel heavier than the rocks that I cannot kick away. Barefoot, torn and bleeding. Mind racing near every passing shadow. Like the eyes of a Doll on the shelf. Shifting, Always Uneasy. A man with no name. Once forgotten inside those woods. He is not to blame nor was he ever thanked. But my savior is gone. No longer safe. My thoughts pass to that moment. To that letter within my hand. The parts of me disclosed, unopened. Handed down to his sor me. I felt lost, shaken, unloved. Praying he wasn’t there.
Unheard by silent ears. Of Gods that already left me. Odin what did I do wrong? There’s no closure for the dead. Put me beneath the surface. I beg you. I plead. Please, Freya take me instead. I miss that touch. I miss that voice. Valkaries surround him and my thoughts. Years once lost on me. I was not quick enough. I should have looked sooner. I couldn’t. Broke. No coins. My hands dig into the soil. His bones, now embraced by her. Our lovely mother. Earth. She cries for him. She yearns for his rebirth. But time is unforgiving, it cannot reverse. Why? Unspoken words, ripped canvases take me back. To the unwanted past. Color bleeds in the rain above his grave. ainting my memories over him. Protecting my deepest pain. This was once forseen. But dismissed in vain. It’s nothing great. Can I come back from this? Or shall I lie on his resting place?