Sorrow & Rage

Interdimensional relationships exist within elements by touching the sound of purity else we are tainted by this reality which may or may not be the world we live; in between is a faith with limitations. Territory of inhumanity is to cross over surrounding boundaries guarding perception into illusions of trauma and suffering; some instances are not what we make believe. Our heart is the only sense organ we can rely upon once outside the kingdom; we may be led astray but the natural beat will not falsify itself. What is in our blood is impossible to imitate; a man can present a graph yet the feeling is enough to represent that which we know within, without the man.

Here I am in the upside down realm; I should of known better. I am what I am. Nobody accepts how I come; I wonder if they will notice I am gone. As a vow is written for a play to be performed undermining drama's fortune for souls, there will be few of us dismissing the roles as curtains ready to unfold; this is your choice whether or not the choice of ours. There is only one path for blood.

The audience is miserable; I am disappointed in myself for being unaware.

Reminiscent of moments stolen by misunderstanding is where I lay my head for rest; underneath my eyes are purple nightmares staring at the moon while crow's feet mark my attempts.

"Will we be invited to the wedding?"

Far out of reach a battle rages between angels alike; half are careful and the other half is reckless. Ramming into each other with furious confusion a pair curiously watches a trio dismember their wings from heavenly bodies while a quad laughs.

"There are no weddings here."

"How will we wed when we are apart?"

Outside the gates an invasion begins; beasts ram at our fortress with their numb heads.

"You can only marry out there."

"Where the enemy exists."

Brad and Cindy took several blows to the chest; both their hearts pound with forces of anguish.

"They will make it impossible to find him."

"I will be afraid to look for her..."

"You don't want to be disappointed."

"You don't want to be deceived."

Our worst fears resurrected from the aftermath of negativity; pain is birthed of a womb impregnated by misconception. We are disappointed and we are deceived; we do not search, the emotion of presumption is our response mechanism therefore any hunt we pursue will cycle us for prey. What is the purpose of control when not a thing or being is a unit of a whole? The impression of without is to peer within; there we find everyone else even if we are not there.

"I don't know how I will continue without him. He is the part of me I can see and touch. He is the part of me I adore. The other part is who I am which will not be without him. What will I do?"

"She is my wife; what does a husband do without devotion?"

"You will to see each other again."

"Devotion does not end."

"What if we do not see each other again?"

"We theorize that to be impossible if you remain calm...."

"Even when sorrow becomes rage?"

"Fighting will only prolong the wait."

"How is anything impossible?"

"You will not end."

"What of our sorrow?"

"What of our rage?"

"Those will end..."

"It will become impossible if you can make it through."

Wisdom is not a quality we exude however adaptive we may be. This house is full of my animosity which grows as my blood flows. I admit this rage to be sorrowful; chains will wrap around my knuckles for bloody hell. Their red is not the color I paint; none of them know whichever they could be. I excuse their behavior with compassion of a priest however I am not a holy man. I want them gone.