False Friendship

We live in reality. Our spirit and dreams are broken as we must pursue a broken path. A path intertwined with destruction yet we claim purity. Behind the fake smiles, the empty promises we call ourselves friends. As if by being human we have something in common with each other. Or just because we walk this path together or simply meet along the way that gives the stranger the right to call himself our friend. But ultimately I am alone and together we walk - our thoughts only audible within our own minds and outside we raise the banner and say sadly “we are feeling okay today”

I have never felt beaten as I feel now. Never felt betrayed in such a way. Finality is a cruel punishment to take, repeated actions eventually remove any hope we have of blurring the truth. There is only so many times you can bash your head off the stone wall before you realise that your head will crack and break many times before the wall even contemplates defeat. There comes a time where we must stop fighting for ourselves and simply merge into whatever greater power that tries to consume us.

I wish I had just been bruised and torn for at least then these wounds would heal. But the actions and words from those around me cut far deeper than the sharpest knife. A festering wound that eats away at my heart and soul and saps me of any energy I can find. You and I are never focused enough to allow these wounds to heal. Each time a layer falls away and I see myself staring at beasts. The beast that I am becoming and the one that you have become within my mind.

We know we are broken. But something within me still moves me to want to try. And so I will accept these chains, they will remind me that I try too hard and it is not my place to rise and shine. The sun may rise and shine and the moon may take her glory but there is never a third to steal their place among the skies. For the stars they are many and if there were no moon would they shine so bright?

Spirit Past

I am the spirit past, the one who was but is no more. My name was whispered on the wind, but hushed now forever more. Many spoke my name in fear, but those who knew me spoke of love. The world was mine, the air swirled from my palms, and birds and butterflies danced by my side. The world was beautiful, the magic one – birds, beasts and plants lived as one, united in harmony, feeding me and I in return feeding them. I created wonderful pictures and brought them light, the sun peeping through the clouds over the mountain top, the dew glistening on the grass in the faint morning light, the great cascading waterfall full of foam and bubbles as it fell from a great height. The world was mine, my colours streaked across the sky.

Then the darkness came, clouded by the brains of man. Their new found intelligence brought danger to my lands. They stole my mysteries, giving thanks for my power to their newborn gods. They destroyed my forests, clearing lands to construct abominations. The strong lead the weak, creating laws and rules to keep the people subdued. They created histories that never were, created heroes and prophets that never existed. They slew and tortured all those that openly worshiped me. I tried to fight back but my power slowly diminished over time. I had an army once but they now have all gone beneath my soil. There are few who would help me, but they know not how to call me. They sit and gaze, revel in my beauty, feel it’s peace and power. They reach out with their hearts and their minds but they cannot touch for my power is no more and I am left here in a crippled state watching my world dying, watching all that I love fall apart, and in the end too I will surely wither and die.