After tossing and turning through another sleepless night
The taciturn Sage watches the surrounding world through a sheen of glass
There but not there …
Sharing being part of the race … but feeling alone and out of place
This vale is not suited to his conflagration
The land itself seemingly rejecting his aspirations
So all goes wrong and the inspiration rallies to force his hand
Soon he leaves for an ancient island citadel …
He must break the mould which he has forcibly been lulled into
To regain back what has been lost
And make sense of the light which shines within
That which is wasted in these sleepy shores ….
His light to shine in the way it once did
For him to see the world how he once perceived
To write tales of valour and venture to realms of beauty
Away from the sorrows of the dark pit
And he needs magic as the mood lifter
A source of healing to lift him from the gloom
Inspiration to fuel his aspirations once more
A purpose to carry him beyond the impending doom he feels …
He sits amid the embers of the rising phoenix
As he tries to escape the shackles once more
He feels better than he did … still trapped in stasis
Impatient for the change he knows is on its way
These are the last dregs of the toxins
Soon this landscape shall drift by
And a new shore will be manifested
Its vibrational signature echoed through his being
Its always darkest at the dawn … like now …
At the very end of this chapter time drags its illusory feet …
Holding on
His thoughts drift to the diary of the cryme
To all those pages written
To the pain and the despair hidden in those cryptic walls
He wonders if eyes will ever gaze at the twists in that catacomb
Or has it all been a waste of time?
Mind’s eye cast in reflections which bounce off the mirror
He has no regrets … there is no turning back
This life must come to an end
And the new one fused into his awareness
These toxins shall soon pass
And the new parchment will appear ready for a new written style …
