Sometimes, words have a power to describe the unconscious... And in between their lines lie the falsities of their expression - the unmasking of their true meaning is a pointless journey if not endeavoured.
The letters were composed for my eyes to view, and they devoured each sentence; paraphrasing them, almost immediately, in the back of my head. And I smiled at their make-up.
Had it been known already that this was bound to be brought up? Certainly!
And how useless they were to the brief sense of relief for their essay contained nothing more than old tales.
These words have been written and re-written many times...I wonder how long until they behave and come to be proper to their age. No more lies, no more fairy tales, no more edited notes. Just truth -- and truth is, these blank statements are a mere echo of future laments to come.
Surely, they may be fulfilled to their extreme; as it is fake and to its necessity, for self-confidence's sake, may they be proven logical over time and not just another narrative to be claimed.
The fruit has yet to blossom.
No comments:
Post a Comment