Though I've called your name a thousand times, my words are blown back
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into my face. The wind makes my skin harder still. The clouds race by
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over-head and I fight to remain standing, the signs of endless journeys
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shows in my weakened stance. I wish for the ground to open. I have been
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around the world and back, I have re-lived every memory, re-dreamt every
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dream and felt every touch (again). Still the clouds will race, the wind
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will cut and soon I will fall. The dust will form a mound that shall be my
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tomb, never to be whetted by the tears of mourning, because I was lost
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long ago in a colder world and lost you forever.
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I believe that each man craves the soul rejuvenation that, for centuries,
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authors and poets of the world have immortalised through the written and
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spoken word. I believe that each man wishes to harness the power of the
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burning sun and rejuvenate the soul that, for many of us, lies dead. I too
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have traveled these paths and found that most lead to a bare world.
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Your Name
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| Arcane Sun |
