Every time I feel sure, again nothing is as it seems. Cold metal a forgotten dream. Now warm and liquid, now glowing from within with golden rays, quietly, faintly. But even the candle rages an inferno in the dark, cold, night. Now we count the days as they pass. The hours shift around in the stack, and only a few seem worth looking forward to. Oh how time changes us. But its all just an illusion. On how many levels? That the question, I guess.
Bridges rise and fall on the wind, and the torch follows its will, not mine. Ashes and dust replace mighty noble strength. And the wheel turns and all things return. But not for oh so long...
I know not what the morrow gifts us, but I can say, that for now, I am happy. I don't want to label this, I just want it to live on forever. Trust is something I will never give up on. I still give it away at every turn. I'm following my guiding star, and she will always keep me safe.
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