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Misty River

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Phoenix

One toe tracing the miasma of self-destruction as it coils up from the damp earth.. I must have fallen in and let myself be overcome. Should the girl be resurrected? She has been dormant for years, lovingly laid to rest after ages of endured hell. I never thought it would come to this again within my lifetime and so I stand in an indescript clearing the night sky above turning on its nightly course. I inhale.. the scent of jasmine and damp earth mingling. Dropping to knees the earth stains my silken white robe.. With the quick prick of a finger blood drips down to the small circle, painstakingly drawn with a willow branch found near me. Up come the tendrils of steam.. a few words chanted in the silence of the autumn night fade back into the darkness.

I am eternal, but even eternity has its limitations. The darkness below the still water still reaches up to the surface on occassion. Return to me my soul which has slipped into that oblivion, beyond the surface. She needs to be nurtured, her wounds tended to but must not be blind to those around her for they too are in need.

We summon our fears when there is no reason for their existance. Some turn to control, deluding themselves into thinking their effect on others is more than what it is, failing to realize the implications of their words and actions. Others turn to apathy, caring little for obvious affronts. Both types intermix, swapping states of being for periods of time.

To be whole, one must nurture.. one must listen.. one must love without control. To be whole, one must reach a summit of worldly wisdom and understanding before travelling to the next peak to gain more. Events through life lash at those who are not aware as well as those who are, it is inevitable.. there is a breaking point for all spirits that slip through existence.

3:02 p.m. - 2006-09-19
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