domingo, 23 de novembro de 2008
Perchance all my way has been nothing more than a miserable lie. No matter how many times I pick my worn weapons and climb down to the battlefield, I’m always hit and consumed by the same ancient fears once again. Hadn’t I thrown them away from my container of emotions? Hadn’t they vanished? Where were they hid all this time?
Longing for what seems to be fated for somebody else, it looks like at last I’ve realized I’ll always be trapped within my torn pieces. They won’t ever be put together, though I might pass the image that they’re tied up by unbreakable bonds. They aren’t. It takes a single glance of openness and my strong walls are washed away in a blink. They crack in a thousand broken hopes.
Why, then? Why shall I keep this endless combat? I’m struggling so badly for a futile answer. My pain won’t be eased. It will come back. It returns bolder every time, forever starving for my own annihilation.
Now I know – this I can’t amend. I’m stuck inside my weakest spots. Fragile… Too insignificant to be felt, far too small to make myself bigger.
