Pretentious parchment

“And why should not my cheeks be starved and my face drawn? Despair is in my heart and my face is the face of one who has made a long journey, it was burned with heat and with cold. Why should I not wander
over the pastures in search of the wind?”

And in search of the wind, in search of the cold that wakes me, nay soothes me from my waking, into a kind of frigid numbness.
Why do I chase the cold, unless it is to freeze the flames that you left burning still in the dead of night? The red-tipped face that welcomes the northern wind upon it, Is the face of one, out of the will to imagine hope, out of the water to vanquish the infernal, undying, half-lit, always burning flame.

“I have wearied myself with
traveling; my joints are aching, and I have lost acquaintance with sleep which is sweet.”

ii.

“The Old Men Are Young Again"; and at last I shall eat it myself and have back all my lost youth.”

But what about the youth I am losing. What about the youth that slips through my fingers? So soft I do not note it slipping until my palm feels empty.

So silently it slips, I am afraid that if I do not stare at it, perk my ears for it, it will all be gone.

And in but a flash I will be aged and wan.

To never have gotten to sing my own swan song, for the fleeting invisibility of it all, shall have robbed me of all awareness. To be robbed not just of time and youth and joy but all memory as well. all that remains is a tired husk, lamenting a loss it cannot understand, to a breeze that will not respond.

iii.

“is it for this I have wrung out my heart's blood?.. I found a sign and now I have lost it.”

Put your heart back in now, the bleeding will cease eventually, they claim.it is not the blood I am afraid of, it is the torn blue vein.

And from all the blood that you have lost, and all the dry aching it left behind, remember not to open it quite so fast, the next time.

iv.

"The dream was marvelous but the terror wasgreat; we must treasure the dream whatever the terror"

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