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The Wanderer by the Fire

It’s been two years… two long years since I walked off that path. I can hear the stars and the moon crying out to through the cold night’s sky, calling me, they won't get out of my head. The subtle whispers piercing my through mind. The cold wind cuts into my bones the pain it inflicts upon me brings me some degree of comfort as it distracts me from the voices, but this is but a mere distraction from the issues at hand. I still see fragments of the dreams I used to have, when I retreat into the depth of my mind… they are only glimmers of the dreams I used to have, like the brief flash from falling fragments of a broken mirror, it temporarily liberates me with a bittersweet sense of disillusion. But as I know all too well a dream is always temporary, yet it always brings me comfort, and is my only source of warmth in the bitter cold of this night.

Although I am free now I still miss the solace that the moon and stars granted me, it was a false sense of assurance like nothing could go wrong, but I slowly realised that it came at too much a price and my rebellion was an inevitable act I had to perform. I sometimes wonder if I was too hasty, that maybe I wasn't thinking straight maybe the other wanderer was just another figment of my desperate imagination, it wouldn't be the first time. From time to time I consider the possibility that I am completely insane and that everything around me is just an illusion. Maybe when I dream it might be what’s really happening, but this is just another convenient lie, and such thoughts could drive me deeper to madness. It’s not all bad, perhaps I have been melodramatic in my thoughts, I still carry some hope for myself… but I must rest soon, I grow tired, perhaps these dreams will come to pass and I can be once again free from the frigid cold of this long winter’s night….
Written by HeartofCold
Published
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