I know of no greater voyage than that of life, so still from day to day we awaken as the captain of the ship we’ve set amidst a storm—perhaps in brevity, though surely to return—and yet it is to say each day the soul awakens to light of new opportunity, until that moment has passed, which certainly it will, if not forever. So, I suppose, as we awaken, ship waving along the vortex of our own complexities and uncertainties, though amidst the storm, we have light, direction, and chance to sail us forward–with us at the helm. Where twilight is to befall us, until the night, is only to be discovered by our own light:

As so before,
Like the soul’s horizon,
Till dawn’s the broken whisper of

In response to:

Urban Masquerade:

We dance: the urban masquerade
The medium between scattered
Footsteps and purpose—never clear
Where we are, who we wish to be;
Everyone or none, if you please.
Ever forward—we are the ones,
Humanities civil engine,
To bring the hand of God to those
Who never hoped to be buried
At the hands of cold faceless stone.
The city is built of our own;
We walk the streets—cities of bones
Crumbled beneath us, lonesome, like
Shattered memories, lost, of what
Once was, and never is to be.
We dance the urban masquerade.
Ever forward—we are the ones
Here to dance, forever—nowhere.

Response to: