a memory that haunts in darkness and light
a painful agony, a sorrow unwept
something to be feared
fought
forgotten
but it is never forgotten
you must shut it out
silence it
turn and outrun it
again
and again
To others it is a faithful comfort
a companion ever present in the best of dreams
a treasure to be sought
a cause to die for
a hand to hold when all others slip away
a light in the dark
hope
and joyful tears
Once upon a time
two friends met
and talked
and understood something
understood something I call truth
though others have called it many things — religion, freedom, love
I could not take it
knowing something
asking for something
always pretending to seek it
yet remaining empty, whole, caged
I ached for a breath of fresh air
I longed to give all instead of just talking about risking this or that
I wanted open blue skies and I was ready to leave the safe, quaint parlor to find them
You kept talking
and I stopped talking — listening, even
because I wanted to live
and you did not
I died for the truth
yes, I died
yet your life is but a lie
"The hardest thing about searching for the truth is that sometimes you find it."
-Anonymous
