Blank. Wordless. Endless. Beginning... an abstract condition from undercurrents now becoming violent. Dissonant energies rise. Amplitude. Trembling and syncopated. Original, deafening loss. Answers unidentifiable. Translations uncertain. Made incumbent by anticipating algorithms.
Then, dissonance resounding, but now... cautiously resolving. Promises of the clean and distinct. Pardon acknowledged, received. Troubles parted since, mystified with intense gratitude. In the fullness of matters, the future appears radiant.
And so, as these seasons pass onward, light bends profound thoughts. Fateful order becomes in every word, every thought, and every action. Times cease to play as a variable. Circles drawn in perfect, defining measure.
But the dark conversations carry on, somehow. Tangents from all walks of life, draw lines of reason in the sand, away from some allegedly foretold break of genius. Alas, developments rescinded around the infinite way, until at length they fall back to inconclusive conjectures.
And yet, the ever, unrelenting hope ?
Clarified, cognitive free-form... unbound.
I love you, but that's the only thing that makes sense. After I die, I'll still love you. Maybe then I'll help you, instead of putting you through hell. Far too long gone the hours of nothing wrong. And if I go to hell, then at least I'll know that I made the right decision by leaving the finest lover whom I have ever known. Because you are meant for heaven, and this demon always had the highest hopes for love.
Perhaps that is the matter: when high hopes turn into great expectations. Mere mortals like you and I, who believe ourselves more powerful than what our gifts allow, taste a bond too strong to break. But that bond… it really should have cracked years ago. And life dragging us through it, like a mustang having us tied at the ankles and twisting through Arizona dirt roads in days of new frontiers.
So… maybe we’re even further gone than I believed. Far beyond driven... until word of honor, vows, and pledges linger too long without any strong backing. The best times can only be measured in hindsight, and that is all we have. And with that, please excuse my drifting off into an indistinct horizon. For I’ve never had a path to follow in my shattered mind, and you are the only shepherd to ever welcome me into the fold. And this hell hath no fury... no fury at all. Only resignation.