Time has been altered.. a new format arises to the occasion. Standing before you, is only myself... withered and weeping. For the past several days, I've been trying to get used to the idea of having a voice... searching desperately to deserve this passing into a new era. The damage is severe and I find myself wavering between moments of extreme joy and abysmal sorrow...the tipping scales have turned the balance from one extreme to another. I'm still lost and the fear is settling into view. I know very few people, and those that are considered trusted are even fewer still... the opinion is that I somehow deserve this new found joy and gateway to redemption. Yet the mirror casts the same image it always has... suffering in guilt and shame are hardly a reasonable price to pay. I am the fool that would tear his own leg off, to serve as a weapon to beat themselves into submission... I need not a Choir, for I am the myriad of enemies storming these castle walls. Still throned, as The King of Shit and Ash. When all is lost, every remaining scrap of dignity, I find myself staring into those precious green eyes, dusting myself off, and finding the strength to stand once more. Those windows welcome the warm air and breathe fresh life into me all over again... reborn every morning to stand on center stage and forge my own destiny. I never dreamt that I could truly feel this way... now I just need a reason to truly deserve it. My Love and My Throne... and the distance that separates us.
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