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They never give reasons,
for there are no answers
to what we do and what we will be.
A toast a warm cheer,
to whence you came
and set your soul on this place.
May you be free.
Can you define me the world
or just give me the answers
to my queries, my curiosities.
Three cheers for the blood,
three cheers for the pain
which sets your soul out of this place
May you be free.
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He dropped on the floor lying all dizzy, hands held close to himself and gazing at everything all around him. It was the exact same place. The place of legends, the place of underdogs and popular victors, the place of both shattered hopes and realised dreams. It made all the memories flow, flow along like logs on rapids and he realised that this was real.
How different it was this time. He felt ever so much more, and through that entire while he refused to get up, wandering into the depths of his mind, half blaming himself for being so stupid, slowly swallowing himself up deep within. Is it a puzzle not? How things get so soulful, a gigant large of feelings can just consume him on the spot.
And boy, was he going to clock that personal best.
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Must things always have to seem mundane to be accepted?
It'd be plain warped for what's not to be. And what's to be which sounds unearthly. And overreacted. Then again I'm just sounding crazy.
And apathy probably saves the day too.
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