For the continuation of the story
Do you ever walk through the valley and along the river, years pass by, you wake up and you’re in your forties, then wonder what sort of purpose you happen to be living, the heavens have pulled strings for all your life and the world has infected you with its disease, as the waves push and pull, your life is dull and peaceful, you got a job, found a girl and settled down, the rest is the echo of humanity reaching for the stars…
On my knees begging for forgiveness
The universe just whispered a poem to me, and then another poem was whispered, I did my best to recall as any good fisherman would, I recalled the latest, and then the first poem whispered and revealed itself, and I only have two hands to write with, I did what I could and found the completion of the first poem, and now I'm stewing, hoping to find an inkling of the second, is it the nature of life, that one can only choose one wife, must I live on, with this whisper on the edge of my mind, a gentle whisper, almost nothing and leaving no imprint, this urge, is it doomed to go unsatisfied, this is not the first time I’ve experienced this, poetry is often whispered in my dreams, and as I sleep, I am but a child, willful and whimsical, only willing to let go of myself, the heavens whisper the poem, and I’m left with the choice of writing it in the middle of the night, or to flip off my muse and say I’m resting, goodnight, oh, to be the moon in the sky, and spurned by her slave, this whisper of a life not lived, a poem not breathed, maybe it will be the end of me…
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The world order rupturing in the background
Feelings build up, and there’s so much you want to say, so many accurate truths, describing your situation, your reactions, and what you would do, given the chance, but these feelings, you don’t know how to articulate them, go ahead, shed your tears, what you’re letting go of is actually yourself, like a snake shedding their skin, there is so much you could be, within the realm of possibility, but you only have two hands, and your life walks through a single line, you can’t have both your girlfriend and your wife, such a sad world, in truth, when your humanity is stretched almost beyond the breaking point, and you’re forced to take a life, shed your tears, once they’re gone, you won’t have to worry about the good person you could have become, live, laugh, love, the world turns, and you survive another day, in the salty liquid of your tears is a possibility, either let go of it, or tattoo it to your face, and hope to god the heavens are forgiving, that they understand and justify everything…
