When was the last time anyone believed in you?
Outside of the trappings of your profession
without the aegis of your Oath?
When was the last time someone saw that fleeting, flickering fire
that light that echoes the beams of starlight streaking through the merciless void?
The glimpse of that dark amber window
into the gleaming sea of your soul?
(I am a shadow, a ghost
a flickering, fading thing
a wisp of a memory of a dream)
Time wears all things
and even mountains crumble
and oceans turn to desert
and what is one soul in a million?
Light flickers, fades
And only the silent darkness
But it is not the darkness that I fear
Only the emptiness
disordered thought processes
hidden in the seeming chaos is beautiful, elegant order—at least, I hope that's true.
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