To look upon the horrors of the past is simply the end of the dream.
I cannot say or fathom a feeling or empty space when the tip go missing.
I feel ravaged, I feel anew. Is this what being filled by empty space feels like.
Is it such a spacial feeling to be filled and created by something new.
When the bell tolls over and over, I see it, in the light dark space, all of them looking at me.
All of them seeing me, all of them feeling me,
THe one set of eyes that shimmers from the dark and feels no pain, the empty notes fall oon deaf ears.
I feel them, I see them, but no one else does. Reaching out...
The leaves of the paper, the musical notes speak, missing a few, off beat.
I shall play it, I shall set up my instrument and play....no compose
This masterpiece speaks where it is broken, where my fingers drip blood.
It is here, it is the all, it is what we wish, the warmth of a fire
Binary, the all or the nothing
I couldn't be happier.