Whispers in the current, like a fog of something long lost,
Rolling in,
And hauntingly calling out to me.
Mists from the dark, rumble on flopping whitewash, like silent cloud bank.
Canteens and travelers journals, do not document my most intimate thoughts;
Thoughts that haunt me,
Like you do.
On the sands of night watch,
I sit, and wait, for something to roll in.
The nights shift from rum-madness one evening, to a starry sobriety under memories of other lives, the next.
Sometimes, Gaia whispers, and sometimes she soars, angrily and crying in weather adjusted only for the God's to express; and Nature, their ceptor.
I leave room, in my body space-my mind; lots of room, as the days pass, and thoughts like memories and notions flood, and recede.
Love is
The memories are created,
No better understood, than by a man who observes time with boundaries and respect. Love is natural, even for us, against the treacherous!
It is as though, God, created us, instilled to forgive. And instilled even to forgive psychopathy.
After all, isn't it animalistic to be a psychopath? Playing psychology for sport, and justifying every means.
Some animals feel. Feel a lot. Are we, animals? Are animals, nature? Is our nature evil? Do they comprehend things we can not? Do they too, kill for sport?
The way you had.
The way people will.
The way, I loved you.
Before and after, I'd forgiven us.
Absolved you.
Freed myself.
Still,
Vagabond on the beaches of Paradox's, I'm awaiting Revelation, and watching the world burn well, burn fast, and the people roar against it.
Loving you, was my fight.
One of many.
One, I'd never dropped.
One I will always wonder about.
One I have always given up.
You were wet dripping madness, and I burned to beg, what had become a relishing poison of insight,
And feelings,
That made no sense while grasping my hands off cliffs.
I loved you then. You would not let me.
I love you now, and here, you are gone, but I feel it holding my fibers for Retribution before Kingdoms create a new history here,
As earth tears itself apart.
You stay here, in me, as though loving you was the blue vain, of cosmo's and life-force. You are my binary, running energy- twin, to the underbelly of my wrath, and roar, like ocean, peace, and rain.
So when the mists roll in, so do you ;
my thoughts are on where you are. And where I will never be next to you. And on what lies ahead.
I feel the best part of you, in the silent distance, where you honor me the most in this form.
For your words Slayed once.
I assume, as you have remained so "human"... That they still do.
I await.
Traveler, Vagabond, Wife.
