As the pendulums tilt towards the end and the pipers call for friends, I feel it’s time to throw myself upon great stones, upon the face of the moon so that you may all see me and call out for a wink and a nod and an affectionate glow. But alas the tower looms too high as it pierces the night sky and I’m left to pout and tantrum as my eyes shift sadly south.
I don’t know, sometimes I feel him in the marrow of my very structure, screaming for release. Others he is docile and untroubled, drifting through the days like air through lungs. As I check the windmill motions and the swirls of the oceans, I feel at peace with the fact that my name will haunt your days and your dreams. Though this is not enough, for I to embed the sulfur spits into the gilded flames of your unworthiness to gaze upon such flagrance and sorrow. The black shades will fill your nights of sleepless sleep and ho-hum idle worship of vacant idols.
Will my inscription upon the great walls of time be the shades which draw your idolatry, or will they fade into night like the stars when you’re alone? These are the things I wonder.