My Writings

The Realm of Burden

Carry me now, in the direction of silence. I have heard of its healing springs, offered freely, precious goods, handed down, by a caring hand. To want ice after winter must be lunacy. But, at dawn, I find myself asking, for freezing water in my face, to wake me up, for good.

Daytime clarity, the void has hidden. A pain that obscures another. I lifted its veil to find, yet another sign, of some greater fear. I am not yet ready, to talk about that, not yet knowing, what it is. But the trail of scars leads back to a small place, which could not contain me.

A visit is welcome, from time to time, in the realm of the past. To reminisce over unimportant things. Stories, significant only to their teller.  I made my choices, choices made me, in ultimate irony, and a well laid-out plan. Today, I have no regrets, like a garden, free of weeds. But great care is needed.

Every spike in the wheel, I ground to dust. But I am Nobody yet, in the realm of Burden. Few have seen my face there. Of it, I know very little. Only the pain of growth, not decline. I only passed through its crude, rough lands, to conquer a future.

To sit and consider dark scenarios, the master said, so much worse can happen to man.

Source of strength.


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