17 Feb Thresholds of the Broken

What words do I truly have left to speak? For every syllable that has left my mouth ever since the exile has been nothing but long and forgotten promises. Promises that have in which tangled up timelines and brought upon fates even I never believed to be possible. The very phrases I have spoke have moved nothing within this reality, they are of the very essence of stillness themselves, and even now, I find it difficult for the words I speak to move lines within this place.

What awaits me now here is something strange, something of calm, inevitable, forever existing; yet, of a vigorous struggle. It in essence is now unknowing however, it most certainly whispers of something I have faced before, something before the departure, yet shortly after the collapse. It was only during that time did I come close to reaching the threshold, the threshold that would lead me to you, the threshold that would ultimately lead me to us becoming one.

That day however, was never met. Instead infinite fallings begun to take place, and spinnings within space far beyond my range and control swept over the land and all that I had used to know, swallowing it whole. Since then, it has all become a distant blur, with only shaking and reverberations remaining. It is a haunting that is strong hear, a haunting that grows more eerie and eerie everyday I come closer to the liberation I so desperately seek. For I know he will soon run in an effort to gain back all he had once lost.

He may not know what he has been running towards, but he knows what he has been running from, and soon a clashing will begin that will write new fates for us all to read.