Posts Tagged past

Echoes swirl
Through hallowed
Halls

Bouncing off doors
Inside my
soul

Meaningless words
Wrapped in
Illusion

A singular voice
Bent on spiritual
Intrusion

Bolt the door
Against his
Dark

Shut my eyes
Seek thy
Light

Within her circle of stones
She drifts back to that place
Casting out shadows
Demons handsome face

Once lost in his darkness
A labyrinth of despair
Longing for an illusion
Twin flames sweet embrace

That lone wandering drifter
Disguised as a sage
Stealing souls
Trying to make it pay

She felt he was coming
Hyena slowly circling
Hell fires burning
Raging like lightening

Call down the thunder
Glance back courageously
Lifetimes spent stalking
Doors opening and closing

Atonement is sought
Peace offered up
Discounting her wrath
Holding nothing from the past

Dearest Ophelia,

Forgive my delayed response; not for lack of trying, but it seemed as if each time I sat to pen my reply, something or someone needed my immediate attention. I’m sure you understand and can relate.

You asked if you are allowed to be this happy…not only are you “allowed,” but you deserve such happiness. Everything in life happens for a reason, of that there can be no doubt. Every path we choose, every road we travel, will eventually lead us to the place we are supposed to be. But it is up to us, to have our eyes open and recognize that place when presented to us. It appears you have done just that.

Yes, Ophelia, there will be times when you feel as if the separation will bring about your undoing, but this will only strengthen your bond and aide your determination in bringing to fruition that day when you are no longer forced to leave each others side; a day, I must say, that has been long in coming.

From the beginning…

How clearly I remember; how I longed to experience that love which you found; how many years and miles I had to travel to find it; and the devastation you felt when it abruptly ended. No words or actions could comfort, or take away the pain that assaulted and threatened to consume. But even then, I did not believe it was over; nor did you. Women’s intuition so finely tuned, at such young ages.

Never second-guess your self, Ophelia; and never let it be said that true love does not overcome and conquer all. I’ll await your reply and be with you every step of your journey; whenever you need or want me there.

In peace and love,
Anastasia

Dearest Ophelia,

It has been so long since we sat and talked. There once was a time; long, long ago, when there was nothing we didn’t share. Two young girls; hearts brimming with hopes, dreams and silly fears, of that which was unknown; much that we only imagined, some truths that even now are difficult to comprehend; but still, here we are; all these years later, reaching out and connecting. Confidences shared, vulnerabilities exposed, trusts forged; and life goes on.

I must confess that I often miss those days of youthful innocence, but treasure the memory of them always. And so it was with abundant respect that I accepted your news of this second chance of which you spoke; with such heartfelt joy that it leapt from the page and struck my own soul.

For I too know about second chances, am well versed in affairs of the heart; and can tell you with complete and utter certainty that soul mates and twin flames do, indeed, exist.

Your happiness is such that you spend every waking moment in a state of euphoria; counting the moments until you can be together again. The wait is agony, yet such sweet suffering it is; for you know what awaits you and how far you have traveled to finally meet at this crossroad once more.

There are times when you fight sleep; unable to bear the pain of such missing, during your hours of slumber; and at others, you cannot wait to rest your head, close your eyes with the memory of him fresh in your mind, the scent of him still lingering; recounting every second spent, ever word spoken, every touch and caress; given and felt; knowing full well that you will find him in your dreams.

Ah, yes, how well I know this love you speak of. Having rejoiced and basked in its eternal promise; suffered and sacrificed to attain that which I needed more than my next breath. Knowing full well that should it ever cease to exist, so would life as I had come to know it. The pain, the torment, the agony and the angst; diffused completely by a single embrace.

But I warn you, dearest Ophelia, that second chances are not for the faint of heart. Most will never know the meaning of true love; cannot fathom that somewhere on this earth there is a twin that completes and makes us whole. And so, if a second chance, by fates hand be granted, you must grasp it with every ounce of your being and be mindful to wrap with ties that bind, but never constrict.

There will be those who scoff and scorn; will bring up past mistakes; of yours, his and those you made together, when the ignorance of youth was all you knew and held you under its wicked spell. Know that such negativity is not given out of love, but is born of pure, unadulterated jealousy. Resentful and loathing of you, are they; because you have found and accepted that which they know not the meaning of.

Take heed, Ophelia, when I tell you that there are those who would rather see you suffer as they, than rejoice and share in your happiness. They may not even be consciously aware of their actions; and so it is up to you to proceed with eyes wide open; armed and ready, to battle for that which your heart does know.

I leave you with my blessing and full support. Go now, to the man of your dreams; the keeper of the key, that fits the lock you fastened tightly around your heart. Trust your intuition, your inner voice; make every moment count and live your life with him well.

In light,
Anastasia

…lies a pathetic creature of habit. So vile as to burn your eyes blind, should you cast your gaze upon him for too long a time. Haunted by demons of a horrific past, or a victim of sheer lunacy, telling tall tales; weaving colorful yarns, his mind simply mad.

I often wondered of his angst; whether it was genuine or completely contrived; the product of trying to emulate the lives of those great minds whose books he consumed – not once, nor even twice, but endless, countless times; as a drunkard takes to wine; believing to have glimpsed his soul, on the yellowed crumpled pages, between the lines of others words.

Forever lost, questioning reality, obsessing over the meaning of existence and whether or not he’s really here; leaving a trail of pain and tears in his wake; feeding off whatever scrap of emotion he can evoke and they willingly give; feasting on regret, as it’s the only feeling strong enough to remind him he’s alive.

It is no accident that she sees these things, these glimpses of the future and what lies behind the veil of façade in which some choose to linger. There are no accidents and they always seem to come at an appropriate time in her life; just when she needs the clarity most, but still, always surprising and completely unexpected.

She knew there was a certain level of craziness in him, but wanted to believe it was more of a rebelliousness than actual lunacy; although he claimed to be insane more than once, almost to the point of bragging; as if being insane and unable to control his thoughts and function in society was something to be proud of; an achievement of those with superior intelligence and knowledge. He was intelligent, of that there was no doubt; and strange enough, it was his mind and perception of life that attracted her in the first place, which left her wondering of her own mental stability in the end.

He preached change, was obsessed with changing, always claiming to have or be in process of changing; but people like him don’t change, just talk a good line of bullshit and continue wandering aimlessly; alone, taking up space and doing absolutely nothing for the greater good of mankind, and leaving a trail of destruction and debris in their wake.

She saw him walking the streets along the bay; baggy shorts, sandals and a Hawaiian touristy shirt; a 280 pound chic magnet in tow, in the form of a St. Bernard named Bud. He looked just as he had, but older with rougher edges and quite a bit heavier and wider; still talking his crap, looking for the next big score; still no pot to piss in or window to throw it out of; no longer able to count on his looks and words to lure them on his own, letting Bud do the work of hooking them, as he tried his damndest to reel them in.

Eventually they all stopped listening and even in darkness he couldn’t find peace, as the voices in his head refused to stop taunting. He lived a life of loneliness, claiming to have wanted it that way, but he was a liar and a con, left to reap exactly what he had sown. Unable to hold even the most menial of jobs; no money to feed himself or his dog, he wandered the streets panhandling, with that single copy of the book he had penned, designed and produced years ago by a chic whose name he’d long since forgotten; pages yellowed and dog-eared, no one listening to the raving lunatic, who stood on the corner and read excerpts aloud, from the book by an author no one ever heard of.

She appeared out of nowhere at the stroke of midnight, as if having emerged from within the lake; a mirage of convenience, claiming to possess the key to get me back into the kingdom. Clearly taken aback at my hesitation, she promised to lead the entire way; guiding and navigating, until I found my self once more in the fold; where she swore I belonged, where she knew I wanted to be.

I considered her proposition momentarily, but in the end decided it just wasn’t worth the wasted time and emotion, not to mention that of the pain. No, there was no going back, not now that I’d come so far; perhaps for some this was the answer, but not for me; not any more.

Too many lifetimes spent built on lies; having had my fill of traditional thinking. Not quite certain what the answer yet is, but refusing to go back to the way it was; with so-called doctors all harboring god-complexes, anxious to get their hands on you; fuck with your head, dredge up the past, reduce you to rubble and call it healing.

“Ah, but you run in circles inside your mind; thoughts that won’t stop, driving you blind; and still you keep running, closer to the edge, you won’t slow and yet you refuse to look back. Don’t you see what you’re doing, lost in this maze; it’s quite clear you’re holding out hope, for a miracle or a sage; perhaps a keen philosopher to enlighten as you find your way…”

I held up my hand and told her to “Stop!”

Enough I’ve had of fools and sages, and let us not forget wanna-be revolutionary thinkers; doing nothing but rehashing and pondering the thoughts of other great minds; having no faith, no ability to love, nor the courage to grasp that which is their own; far too busy obsessing the condition of life, listening to the voices that haunt their own minds; not giving a damn, or too self-absorbed to recognize, the damage caused in the wake of self-fulfilling process.

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m doing okay; certain even that one day I’ll again find my way; without the influence, guidance or interference of another. Now if you don’t mind, please return to the lake, leave me in peace and don’t again show your face.”

Shrouded in a veil of mist, Alsyna vanished just as quickly as she appeared. I turned to make my way back toward the cabin, when something on the ground shimmered and caught my attention. I walked slowly to the waters edge, bent to retrieve the item off the ground; only to find myself standing in the moonlight, with an all-too-real key resting in my hand…