Swirling endlessly, the glare of a non existent stare beating down upon a landscape never quite tangible, blistering friction of a sand that never ceases nor stills, a silent shade of the former soul toils to no gain, for every grain of ether it brushes gingerly away from its resting place, another takes it place. It ceases not for time, hunger, or rest, just endlessly of toils through its cycle of hardship.
The thoughts that once drove it now are seamless with the haunting echoes of the void, whispers that define his blur from the horizon of a scape that once may have been human, but now is only desolate and foreboding. The shade searches for meaning in the infinite its madness to all those whom gaze upon its struggle vague at best, generations have seen the specter of the sands toil, but none have come to understand its infallible search for closure in an endless cycle of renewal. This shade fears nothing but the loss of its sole drive, the only thing pushing it to continue its vastly misunderstood but common struggle taken to a physical manifestation. Long ago it began its descent, a vague ideal lingering back in the shadows of thought, a primal and yet violated drive for truth in the ceaseless void of existence.
Then suddenly, it stiffened and brushed away another grain of the fine sand, it gingerly placed the ordinary grain into it's hand and gazed into it as if the world had ceased its continuous motion around a star long gone from a horizon once unknown. That shade saw in the simplest of all things something truly profound and forgotten. We are all the same, in an absence of one, another will assert it's self, but once removed the original will never return to its resting place quite the same. It has been removed, the delicate harmony that once existed has been disrupted by the naive actions of another. Its now lost, forever severed from the balance, or is it? Is there some design unknown to the mortal that exists to restructure the void, create more then distant echoes from the lingering cacophony of ancient whispers. Maybe that grain was meant to wallow in the currents of zephyrs until it came to rest again, where slowly a new balance would be created, and in the end the univerese would conspire for another balance more suited for each particular grain, a time when at last the universe would manifest its self anew and the cycle would began again. An endless toil of physical truth being revealed for those who search diligently in the depths of insanity. That moment shook the shade to its core, dispelled the memories of a love it once held so gingerly, the truth of a grain of sand was the cure for all its agony, and sorrow. Another swirl and the horizon cleared, another echo added to the ancient chorus of the void. Make me whole again. The knowledge of all time whispers in the darkest of nights to those who listen, and the truths of ancient times speaks to those who listen carefully. For every complex psychological problem there exists an answer as simple as the grain of sand that saved the shade. The only thing that remains is the drift with the infinite until the harmony of a once sane mind is returned.
I loved you once, and still, but no matter the time, place, or reason I will forever be lost to the mercy of the void. Until one day I am returned to that place of harmony. This is the one unavoidable truth, and insanity drove me here, the pure hatred of the real caused this, it is a vile understanding that has root in wretchedness but in the end is as innocent as any. ******** the world, may it burn around me and bring you with it.
The thoughts that once drove it now are seamless with the haunting echoes of the void, whispers that define his blur from the horizon of a scape that once may have been human, but now is only desolate and foreboding. The shade searches for meaning in the infinite its madness to all those whom gaze upon its struggle vague at best, generations have seen the specter of the sands toil, but none have come to understand its infallible search for closure in an endless cycle of renewal. This shade fears nothing but the loss of its sole drive, the only thing pushing it to continue its vastly misunderstood but common struggle taken to a physical manifestation. Long ago it began its descent, a vague ideal lingering back in the shadows of thought, a primal and yet violated drive for truth in the ceaseless void of existence.
Then suddenly, it stiffened and brushed away another grain of the fine sand, it gingerly placed the ordinary grain into it's hand and gazed into it as if the world had ceased its continuous motion around a star long gone from a horizon once unknown. That shade saw in the simplest of all things something truly profound and forgotten. We are all the same, in an absence of one, another will assert it's self, but once removed the original will never return to its resting place quite the same. It has been removed, the delicate harmony that once existed has been disrupted by the naive actions of another. Its now lost, forever severed from the balance, or is it? Is there some design unknown to the mortal that exists to restructure the void, create more then distant echoes from the lingering cacophony of ancient whispers. Maybe that grain was meant to wallow in the currents of zephyrs until it came to rest again, where slowly a new balance would be created, and in the end the univerese would conspire for another balance more suited for each particular grain, a time when at last the universe would manifest its self anew and the cycle would began again. An endless toil of physical truth being revealed for those who search diligently in the depths of insanity. That moment shook the shade to its core, dispelled the memories of a love it once held so gingerly, the truth of a grain of sand was the cure for all its agony, and sorrow. Another swirl and the horizon cleared, another echo added to the ancient chorus of the void. Make me whole again. The knowledge of all time whispers in the darkest of nights to those who listen, and the truths of ancient times speaks to those who listen carefully. For every complex psychological problem there exists an answer as simple as the grain of sand that saved the shade. The only thing that remains is the drift with the infinite until the harmony of a once sane mind is returned.
I loved you once, and still, but no matter the time, place, or reason I will forever be lost to the mercy of the void. Until one day I am returned to that place of harmony. This is the one unavoidable truth, and insanity drove me here, the pure hatred of the real caused this, it is a vile understanding that has root in wretchedness but in the end is as innocent as any. ******** the world, may it burn around me and bring you with it.
