Shear curtains drift in the breeze of windows I leave open knowing they should be nailed closed. I lay in bed in the fading heat of the dying day, in those hours between the suns zenith and the nights ascension. How did this habit come over me, this need for the solace of the sheets in this time of mans reign over the earth? Perhaps its the knowing of what comes when the sun runs away to hide, when she cowers in her corner of the universe praying for the strength to rise once more, praying that this wont be the night. I fall into a state that I know renders me open and vulnerable, I know he walks the floors and dances on the rafters in the bright of the sun, no longer afraid, yet I make my way to my bed and fall. Perhaps I know that I need to be awake when the sun deserts me, perhaps I know that the steel that surrounds me can only do so much damage to his acolytes, perhaps It is the only time when I can really sleep and dream, in realms uncontrolled by him and his minions. I dont know but what Ive learned is that my guardians, and I have many, beings eons old who hover over me swords drawn and ready for war, they stand watch in those fleeting moments when I drift off and think its hours, when its only minutes, and I dream of children who look like me and dream of the soul quenching peace of arms wrapped around me, drawing me tight and sheltering me from friend and foe alike. An escape perhaps, watched over by angels and demons, left alone for moments brief to a mortal, ages for those who pay no heed to the clock of life. https://youtube/watch?v=EouU9VKdPak&index=8&list=RDz5Eo1zFVuWA
Posted on: Tue, 21 Oct 2014 04:17:16 +0000
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