The marathon man
How I have seen this before, the man who wondered through life looking for answers in the wrong places.
The shadow of my life, in the twilight of the past seems unbearable, the levity of great confounded beliefs, so I was told is now plagued with opacity. Founded on the road to where I lay myself, barred and vulnerable. On the road, hoping for answers whereby I gain no understanding and favourable conditions. A marathon where the bystander gives no such applauds. A shadow behind me whispers salacious words to my ears, calling me out from the path I was chosen to run. Direct him towards his ancestors path, with attributes that is misshapen and corrupted, the words would say. Go ahead, feed him poison thus waiting for my slow departure along the roadside. And as I continued towards the journey of unknown, I remembered how the man of sorrow once walked the pattern of life. The insults, the stench of a corrupt world that surrounded him, he was the song of drunkards, as they mocked. Once a loner, walking through the smothering atmosphere of pain. The shame he bored, while also looking at his future, a man soon to be cut off in the land of the living. I found him only at the end of his life. But then again he found me, I willfully surrendered, undeviating I walked beside him, in his footsteps we danced in harmony, as he was transfigured, I see such reverence, such life. He was buried in my corruption, raised for my justification.
How I have seen this before, the man who wondered through life looking for answers in the wrong places.
The shadow of my life, in the twilight of the past seems unbearable, the levity of great confounded beliefs, so I was told is now plagued with opacity. Founded on the road to where I lay myself, barred and vulnerable. On the road, hoping for answers whereby I gain no understanding and favourable conditions. A marathon where the bystander gives no such applauds. A shadow behind me whispers salacious words to my ears, calling me out from the path I was chosen to run. Direct him towards his ancestors path, with attributes that is misshapen and corrupted, the words would say. Go ahead, feed him poison thus waiting for my slow departure along the roadside. And as I continued towards the journey of unknown, I remembered how the man of sorrow once walked the pattern of life. The insults, the stench of a corrupt world that surrounded him, he was the song of drunkards, as they mocked. Once a loner, walking through the smothering atmosphere of pain. The shame he bored, while also looking at his future, a man soon to be cut off in the land of the living. I found him only at the end of his life. But then again he found me, I willfully surrendered, undeviating I walked beside him, in his footsteps we danced in harmony, as he was transfigured, I see such reverence, such life. He was buried in my corruption, raised for my justification.
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