Light is our friend and light is deceit and all the same while light is a phenomenon. A call for the oblivious–for the one who is so, is in dark. We all wish for the light. Because in light we feel safe, and secure. As it is in light when we are far away from the wistful bleak rooms and walls of our own thoughts.
It is in light, when miracles happen. It is light, which is a miracle. The blinding miracle–similar to the sand in the deserts where man is secure and insecure at the same time. And light, its intensity is often our savior. Light.
The blurry road–stretching so far away. Yes that road. The only road. The only way. Caught in so much dust. And blur. And shadows. Ah. The enemy.
And there I was. Having to travel that road. The one road. Having to carry the load of the dead dreams and dead poets and dead souls. The road, not less traveled, not far traveled…
So there we all stood together. Me and the dead dreams and the dead poets and the dead souls. We were one. How will we walk. How will we drift. How will time move. How will we see. How will we endure. How will we see. What will we see.
And humans, they stared. They laughed. They talked. We stood. Not very apart. But not very close. That dilemma. The haze. The winds. The people. What do they know? But, they know everything. They still don’t learn. They still ponder, and stare and talk and laugh.
SO i set. Forward. One step. Then another. Then more. The world, a great blur–for as far as the eyes can see. Then soon.
Ah. Light. The light gave it away. The road–was not just the path anymore. It became a twisted void of empty voices that echoed. But, the light–it gave it away.
Soon the friend, soon the enemy. Giving the secrets of the dark away. The enemy.