The sky grows dark as dusk fades into night.
Another day passing, another conversation.
It is a routine anew, and one that refuses to end
Until one shuts down in order to awaken upon a new dawn.
A loss for words at a constant and alarming rate,
Gaze averted in order to comprehend the scene at hand.
The lenses are adjusted like a nervous tick,
A fearful hope that they are not rose in tinted hue.
With a deep breath, into the fire one is to go,
Engaging with embers of ruby intensity.
Both clad in ebony, two beings hold still
Whilst their shadows dance in tow in a slow build of tension.
Lack of control, lack of restraint, the lack of willingness to wait.
Yet all at once the constraints of the chest grow ever tighter.
The metronome grows louder with each passing moment,
And the pounding rhythm drowns away all other sense.
Focus is narrowed, sight hazes over,
Afraid of what may take hold.
Overwhelming forces of vibrant pyre,
Even a simple word is enough to burn its mark.
There is lack of understanding,
But another force remains at play.
One moves forward to embrace this change.
Yet there remains so much to be wary of.
Such for order, for chaos, to give warmth or to burn.
For light, for darkness, to crack the ice or remain frozen over.
This is no fairytale, but this feels like its own sense of fiction.
Yet at this time we have barely reached the end of the exposition.
Association, word for word…
Who knew this would be an intimidating game to play?
To not use the mind, a foreign concept.
Yet, it provides many more thoughts on display.
I know not what may be shown,
I know not where this will go.
I take the path with a sense of blindness,
And a desire for the unknown…