Elliterate – post-modern musings of an inkslinger

Whispered in the night,

In the dark recess of my mind,

Are fears, unconquered,

Of what is known and what is lost,

Fragments of space and time,

Played out like children’s lullabies.

And I am a ghost,

Floating down familiar passage ways,

Watching the process,

Hearing the protests,

But mute to speak my mind.

“Running over the same old ground”

But I’m just walking along,

That ground beneath my feet,

Learning to find strength,

In the eyes of the strangers on the street.

Sometimes what you want,

Is never what you need,

And sometimes what you need,

Is something no one else can provide.

—

I went for a walk last night, after the witching hour and watched the lightning through my father’s old binoculars.  There was a storm in the sky and a storm in my head. But even though a thunder storm is frightening, there’s a dangerous beauty about it. I feel like my life’s a bit like a storm at the moment. A lot of uncertainty, but I think it’ll be followed by something as majestic and powerful as the lightning that splits the sky.

Or at least that’s what I hope.