The Realm of Indifference

Nor was she with me to support the extinguishing rebirth of her soul. She was returning from the depths of darkness to re-enter the light. Once trapped in a never ending whirlwind of forces, keeping her astray from the rays of hope trying to reach the surface of her long stray. Years went by in this terrible dream, a dream so wild but empty, that one long dream. The view of the wall with the painted beetles, the coming and going of blurred shapes that jiggle with purpose. The sounds of the slamming doors, the rushing carts, the beeps that danced around the present. Clouds coming in from the edges, encapsulating the moment, the moment being weeks, months. I’m but a mere capsule of her feelings, her presence, I’m but a peasant to the ruler of the dream; it is I who is part of it, but not included; I’m there, but not complete. To return is to face once again the burden of sense, the stroke of purpose in the sea of disaster; to fight that which pulled her down so violently, to risk everything to achieve all.