fledgling

Man may pride himself with the illusion of having conquered and understood every force to exist, and revels in his own ignorant wonder.  But he stands defeated and will never quite manage to fathom one such force - time. I am the witness of what is forgotten or left behind by the rest of existence, the one with no predecessor. The nameless visitor who quietly sits by countless bedsides, looking on as men shrivel, wither and the walls of their existence slowly crumble and erode, while my friend carefully loosens the soul from the case. I listen to every regret and complaint as they grip my hand tightly, not realising that I am the eternal passenger of a journey they have long completed. I am the mason who hardens cracks and dissolves distances. I free the delicate, strained human heart by befriending the fragile memory the race is blessed with. I weave thick, joyful narratives and paint the highs with more vibrant hues to feed enough joy recollecting for a lifetime, while I also tactful

I am soul, slowly plucking every lodged thorn  of bitter uncertainty  like a diligent gardener tending to his favourite germanium, scouring away the weeds caressing the persistent tremors of the soul to a calming silence. my nostrils slowly sip the morning dew, to try and heal the scalds down my lungs, wrought by my woes and help my heavy eyelids close in peace. I have undressed my soul of all fear and doubt. let the mellow April sun of love soothe and burn my newly shed, and growing, skin let my heart prepare to be tossed, bruised, shaken, crushed, broken  and mended with the most beautiful strokes of gold and silver. I am ready to be fearlessly human.