Wake

You are indeed questionable,
I doubt you and your existence,
I doubt your meaning and purpose,
As you do mine,

Distinguish between what you wanted,
What you needed and what you got,
Do you always feel things should’ve,
Could’ve been different?
Do regrets always play a part in your life,
Regardless of how perfectly frictionless an event may have gone by?

Can’t breathe,
Shook by a sickness reigning,
This life,
A dream of purple twilights and toneless rainbows,
Where liquid flames and rose-tipped blades arise,
We love peace but we love war more,
Conflict and higher perception we crave,

Who can cross this river first?
I say I can do it faster than the lot of you,
And I swim,
I swim,
I swim unknowing of the great waterfalls that whisper with true silence,
Silence,
Shh,
I can hear that voice,
The one that stood out amongst the rest,
Oh my,
The desires flow,
An indescribable intoxication of memories and the touch,
The touch of the coolest breeze and the daintiest of flowers,
Where did this memory die?
Why does the heart ache so much when the mind knows it lost what was beautiful?
But necessary,
Shouldn’t knowledge provide reason,
Reason to forget to carry on,
In this broken dream of long lost love,
Sanctity unveiled itself,
But left a mark on my world as does a poison,
Referred to as a nectar from the heavens,
Drunk to the last drop that hung for the sake of me,
No,
It does ache,
And like an animal I bleed,

A single soul,
Atop mountains long forgotten as the highest of the highest,
Where gods once dwelled now walk men,
Wielding his rapier,
A blade flaring with the eyes of violent suns,
He has lost many,
And he turns to the sky,
For repentance,
For hope,
For peace,
For battle,
For an excuse to love,
And reason,
Victory was all his heart ever lusted after,
The lust,
Unchaste and invigorating,
“I can fly” he thinks,
And he closes his eyes,
Stares into a world,
With physicality forgotten,
And magnificent wings of glory,
Made of sky gold and earth gold and blood gold and golden gold,
Stretch out and he sings the song,
The words unknown,
The linguistic of heart sings,
A song for the hawk,
A song for the whale,
A song for the beast,
And a song for himself,
What he meant to say,
Only he knows,
As he flew out,
Not falling,
Not climbing,
Knowing that meaning to his songs and an answer to purpose awaited within them,
And he longed for the stimulation of war,
And he longed for company,
And he longed to be intertwined with cold breath and the god he loves,
For he walked alone,
He fought alone,
He lost alone,
He eternally soared alone,
And in his wake this life will end,
Then the gods shall resign and say,
If only…