An elusive sadness permeates me this day.
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There is no peace, it seems, in the world I know.
When darkness comes I yield and it rules.
My fleeting escape becomes a dream from which I awake and soon again I'm grasped by the lasting thing.
Claws of peril effortlessly pierce what is little more than a diaphanous cladding, itself often pawned by nothing more than an ego.
How does inward substance feel?
Where is resistance to the blight of anguish... the contamination of joy?
Is there no man within to lead to victory?
Will no banner pierce a higher ground within me?
My memories of goodness and plenty, now rancid fables of a life past its own living.
My feet long for the old path and the things that live from it.
It is for birth that I long, for the stuff of newness and for beginnings that smile fondly upon their own potential.
Gather 'round me, my old friends.
Come to me, Hope.
Hold my hand, Purpose.
Walk with me a short while that I might numb this unreal reality and dream a new vision into my existence.