Do I really have a false journey, could I not understand what failure really is?
A soul less vessel without a purpose is simply a shell of a human walking beneath the shadowy
footprints left behind by those that existed in this world or the next. A purpose that wasn't given
is nothing more than failure spelled backwards; each mistake is only a broken memory that hasn't the knowledge to simply fix itself or be put back together again. My embodiment of failure is the lies I try to cover up because I don't want to understand that I was born into a life of misunderstanding and faded passages of furious eyes staring me into the abyss.
But the sound of an old man's cries are words to a soul that I wish to find, through those truths my body can find its fate to reach out and touch that glimmering light that encompasses an aura we each go through in rebirth. Can death be my only escape to understand the truth behind failure or is there another route to find my intriguing answers to this main force that shook the foundations of my mind to wake up from slumber i was calling life.
The anguish souls I hear within my screams have somehow caused a much more twisted touch to descend upon me with a roar of endless woe...words playing back over and over as I try and forget. "I will go first and you shall follow." Growing louder and firece as I try and ignore the tone and listen to the fraise play back within. The voice is what I'm coming to call it from something beyond my simple minded nature, it's like a light I wish to stand in front of for all time, the feeling is endless love but also an everlasting comfort I can't get enough of nor witness in the life I walk now. This voice is not without a price it seems, for if I wish to feel an all powerful comfort i'll have to understand those words spoken prior which are having a larger weight pressuring down on my human nature, a type of pressure that no other force could comprehend.
Doorways beyond this one
The cruel beast that lays dormant within all of us, bites and clawes its way to the surface to show us our true selves. Eyes are bloodly; paw-hands clawed like hooks to snatch and skin that shreds the souls it bites. Straining to eat and nothing else, a mindless animal is what we hide from each other, a true essence of shameful memories is all we have in the end.
