Bridge of past, present, and hope

As the spring’s breath goes down your neck, the familiar ecstasy of the future, and the possibilities of the past fill you up. Looking up at the purple and grey horizon, realizing that the day is coming to an end, the only thought that goes through your mind is but a simple question. A sliver of the possibilities thrown upon you. A smile on your face and a disposed sense of happiness is soon to be all but naught. But the question still lingers. Was this life fulfilled, or will the next one have to suffice? You never know the answer till you get to the gate of life itself, that bridge to eternal slumber. Only given to those who have brought peace to not only their life, but radiated it unto others in a way that they will never know. The consequences of such a life are but simple rest. A peace unlike any other. A hope fulfillment. Like the twinkle on a candle is about to die, but finding out at the last moment your wax is being used to support others, and to help those who feel like their flame is about to burn out. That, is what true peace is. Knowledge of the past, and a hope and passion for the future. It’s a feeling that you can only get once, and it can only happen once your days have ended… But if you have not fulfilled this vial, then you must start over. From the beginning. Rebirth of a soul threw the means of a child. Transporting your life’s purpose to another individual, until you yourself have fulfilled your true dream in life, and achieved final rest… That is what life is about. And those crystal gates are calling my name, waiting, yearning, for me to come home…

Golden Leaves

The forest is the only thing that keeps me alive these days… The sound of her breath on the back of my neck, the feel of her voice as she speaks: Only but two of her beauties. Whilst the day and night go on, I sit here, breathing my very existence into thoughts of the future. Waiting for the time to come, when all will be restored, and the world set right again. For my time is coming to its end, and I feel as though this life, this, small life, is no longer needed. The only one left in my village, the last one to die out. The last, to breath.

As I walk into the exit of the tree, stopping to gaze behind into the dark abyss, I notice something new. A small bud of life, a mere sapling among the dead, sprouted from the base of the tree. Rooting itself out from the ground, showing it’s sparking golden leaves. Something the forest has left behind for me? I will never know. But for an instant I feel as though I had made a difference. That a small ray of light had engrossed my past, and shown it true meaning. Even after all the pain and suffering, days and nights, months and years, dormant. It gives life. With this, a glimmer of hope is set upon my soul, and the time where all I need to do is die feels but a fortnight away. I spend all my energy and pour my soul into this plant. This small, golden glimpse of the future.

Nothing can stop the hands of time. The clocks of fate has set itself upon me, and started to close its doors. Were I to not enter them, a very dark time would my soul be placed into. So I must wait around no longer. I write this to you in hopes that the future I held so dear might be a joyous one, and be filled with love. For even in the darkest of times, you may still go into that forest, and set eyes upon a great creation. And know. That no matter what lies ahead. There is still hope…