weBLOG for November 12th, 2004

How fitting, blog 78.

Today, we're trying a little something different, kids. Something special for a special occasion on a special day. I hope you like it.

Seul

An abyss
as black as the skies in hell
That is all which is left of me
After the knifing in the back
the bleeding of sorrow and pain
the blinding by truth
and my fall from the top rung of the ladder of illusion
I am broken
and I shall be repaired but never again in the same fashion
no longer can I resume that existence
My goals rest at the zenith of a mountain I no longer wish to climb
My belief in angels rumored to carry weary travelers to the summit
has vanished
I must content myself
  to wander at the foot of this giant pillar of dreams
    with those who can only imagine
      what Shangri-La lies beyond the cloud-tops.
Or,
  I could choose to wander into the valley,
    where the mountain is a myth,
      and forget about the lofty visions high above.

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