Once more

A choked mist waits 

Yet soon shall rise 

And on clearing 

The warmth does shine

It’s Shadowed plight 

Become unwoven

Of deepest night

Set lose from burden

Renewed afresh

This task beholden

To make amends

For times still broken

A Shining Thought

Beset by a stubborn inability of those unwilling to reclassify...

Whom, to spite growing evidence of a reason to be proud, claim superiority and forbearance over me.

A glancing blow from one temporarily blinkered from modernity, yet armed with cruel jibes and low regard. An act unbecoming of one so well informed.

Amidst this, epiphany strikes deftly unto an unquiet mind.

Ascendance Forstalled

Furtherance, Fortuity and Wariness now share the same roof...

Iridescent mettle and soaring bluster, underhandedly checked by the chill finger of doubt, prodding the side concealed from would be accusers. An onslaught unlooked for from this quarter; A fulsome effusion of malice where naught defence be prepared.

What of this rekindled raison d'être to be embraced by all? 

The likelihood of this therefore being the case would appear greatly diminished.

Those thought by themselves conversant in their knowledge of all that have become mine own choices; Now stand divided from that which they sought to orchestrate.

Acrid to taste, this rare flavour, festered in the dark recesses of tradition and tainted by subjugation. The only tonic, to forfeit that measure of good will so set aside for the protagonists.

Whomsoever I am regarded by many, can never hold weight against thyself seen by a handful. 

Resuscitation

At first, the very idea, seemingly conceived of by lucifer himself...

Grudgingly acknowledged, rather than wilfully obeyed. The guidance set before us, without question or thought of recourse.

 A more inscrutable truth shall not be found. Moreover; a clarity, that once again all must change and evolve if given the capacity to do so. 

Therein lies bold honesty. For I am too aware of this challenge set before my feet, the distance and direction to be trod. 

Returned to the familiar place of genesis once more, but with the advantage of experience to aid the passage through treacherous lands, and perchance help avoid the perils which befell in the past. 

And thus, though confronted with tasks innumerable, with body galvanised, first steps are taken. 

The Vacancy Of Change

Embarked on long ago; The journey nears a final juncture...

A brief saga this was not, instead an odyssey through which survival was achieved and rich vestiges plundered. The tattered wings of persistence now carry the weary to nest and recuperate at the scene of prophecy brought to fruition.

In order to persist, a vehicle of a differing nature is needed. One that comprehends and adapts all the more quickly. A sentient vessel prearranged with the hard gained experience of its forebear, whilst imbued with the vivacity of a new offspring.

To evoke a posture of hiatus, unnecessary, for those bonds which were common and ordinary will soon wane with the erosion of time.

So the lacunal void looms ominously. A manifest culmination of all vagaries and fears, and tantamount to a gathering pool of gnawing doubt. Seldom felt so keenly or sat astride such bastions of worth.

Defiance now, is the call to arms that has been sounded. For each end, by reason, must bear a new beginning. Not to cower, but step full stride into the oncoming light, and be engulfed. Allowing the fresh flow of opportunity to seep into each pore and eradicate the pox of fertile misgiving.

Devoid of hesitation my will shall be done.

Clamour Of The Enivitable

So swift the flock descends...

As swooping reality lands square on it's feet, to let ring the cry of destiny calling. So thereby the movement, nor evil notion, but by chance, is set in motion.

Rigidly I flout this assault upon my citadel of home. Yet with elastic fervour retaliation emerges. Insensible to doubt, and heedless of worry.

Out of the blue, serendipity shines her mercurial gaze on the inequity of greed, and thus by the opening of a door, a fresh phase is birthed. So awaits a benevolent hearth, gathered by an unfamiliar cadre of spectres.

Comfort, simplicity and ease, all crowd the embers. Whilst seemingly cast out the long endured brethren of survival, resourcefulness and cunning.

That being so, a foothold must be sought, for want of slipping from this height of good fortune and timeliness. The deep roots, so laid down; must be watered with the flow of reason and caution.

By Any Other Name

It is but a mere an epithet...

This means by which one is defined. Surnames the link to heritage, middle names familial ties. A case, laced with connotations of weakness, drawn from ideals no longer at the fore.

Why no honour given to those that had passed before?

More is gleaned from the attachment to the more questionable elements of lineage. A force of character that has left an indelible bruise on a much maligned psyche. Nevertheless, even that is held aloft with greater countenance than the superficial label of malcontent. 

Thus a pseudo name become a means of apprehension. A convenient filter of potential personality mis-match. A guide by which familiarity and comfortability can be measured.

Emblematic of change and self determination. A term of reference turned term of endearment perhaps. Not a throwaway jibe, which never held sway or weight of pride. 

An evocative moniker like those embedded in the annals of family history. 

All That Wanes

How strong are the strands that perpetrate the dealing out of endearment?

In the manner of a green stem, the undernourished attachment too easily withers, and is presently assigned to a mere page in the histories of ones life.

Before long appearing as an immoderate assumption of that which may have never existed. An aphorism of one so blighted by the prospect of an elementary, yet lonesome reality. 

Alas, this plight may be only a malady of the fractured mind. The byproduct of a fleeting sense of misdirection that suffuses and leads astray.

Better then to foster that kindly face; which wholeheartedly elevates, rather than berates, with the harsh wit of a stranger.

In of itself, it would seem apparent that a decade's worth of knowing thus cools in the shadow of secret schemes.

Shackled To

Imprisoned within walls of self-ambition, hostage to success... 

In the meanwhile, there is light; Balance drawn closer elsewhere. Giving  of a steady context, while quenching thoughts of lonely days. 

Nevertheless, inquisition circumvents the dense shell of confidence, to poke at the soft underbelly of unease. A herald of mischief, brought forth to proclaim his supposed right to besmirch that which is held dear and treasured. 

As if to gainsay the successes for which had been so ardently fought. And though laced with credulity, the breath is rotten, decayed by a cynical over-bearance. 

 So battle is here, the clash begun and mine is thus; To do penance and ramify the projected tactic as best I can. To resist therefore, the urge to assail this foe with acrimonious wrath. Instead, to brandish the outward sense of one subdued to another will. 

 Whilst the fire of retaliation languishes as embers within.

Downside Up

A maddening pace exceeding even the most lofty expectations...

All tracks converging, with the thunderous traffic of manifest new opportunity raging though without caution or hesitation. Surely a derailment lies imminently ahead.

Yet this furore masks out many a simple pleasure. Free time has now become a scarce commodity. Thus an uncanny withdrawn mood descends; like a fog of isolation that brings an unwelcome chill, sapping the heat drawn from such incandescent achievement.

The once featureless horizon, of the future yet to come; has suffered a virulent rush of purpose and structure. So much as to even stretch credulity, while bringing along a creeping habitual fear that all which is built must one day crumble. 

So the dark drips of doubt fall into the deep pool, polluting what should be vibrant and clear. An unpardonable exercise in self-induced despondency.

This will of course lift, as with all cycles of conviction it is a passing fancy.

The State Of Unity

When the tempo breaks and motivation is set to fall through cracks thereabouts...

The recurrent coming apart of laboured souls; though not lasting, still renders its toll. A vulnerability that seeps through barely noticed, and effuses the air with a rich pallor. The selfishness of zeal inhaled, while truths are denied their rightful place, unable and unwilling to subdue the more contentious elements.

Brazenly the flame of presumption oft scorches the unintended. So overbearing hubris clings to he who lords over those more deserving. Whilst his hackles so raised, must to others indicate the presence of some malevolent intent.

Thankfully interjection came unawares. In the guise of venerable wisdom bereft of judgement. An esoteric encounter, whose favour and altruism aided the subjugation of doubt. Calming the blaze of conceit.

Henceforth to be encumbered with such presented pride, an expectation to be checked; and in so saying, a commitment made to the intransigent overtures of the hand that is dealt. While empathy seals the breach.

Staggered

An illicit start to a week preeminently bound by stress...

So ebbs my candour, ridden deep with the callousness of doubt. Fated to rub back and forth against my resolve; eroding vital skin, left open to the moist chill of subdued expectation. 

Can we ever truthfully discern prosperity or success? Must it always be outside, gazing in through the window upon the warm hearth within. 

Impermanent isolation; ever to be the lasting choice of those jaded by the blade of bitter memory. Consolation found only in the expectancy of future calm.

So thus honesty walks in step with vulnerability, a wearisome couple propped up by one another's strengths. At times faltering; but never to fall.

A symbiosis of the aggrieved, locked together in divine reciprocity. 

Unbecoming

Prosperity welcomed in from the cold...

An auspicious meeting of circumstance and diligence. The easing of hardy times swept through with the changing of season. 

Alas short-lived was the favourable concourse. Diversity again to show the duplicity of her nature. Dividing the stream, water racing off, indirect and wasteful. Control, only really an abject fallacy. 

In its stead, a recklessness of focus, barely above the surface of the torrent. This all with no soothsayer to foretell outcome or allude to a course through which events may travel. The mere implication of blame fruitless, self destructive.

For those who failed to recite their secret, a more altruistic approach would have bred support rather than mistrust. 

So emerges a silent predicament from the lurking shadows. A need to regain a rhythm, unescorted by static predictability. 

This now drives my thought.

The Avant Guard

A martial force for experimentation, propels it's will upon the mundane...

None can counter this advance, nor should wish to. For in it's wake tread the garrisons of much desired growth. Too long has success in the wrong places governed, unchallenged. Nascent ideas now emerging need room to flourish within the dictatorship of relative prosperity.

Moreover, walks through degradation rekindle the knowledge that there are those more bereft of hope than I. Caught in a desperate spiral from which escape is nigh on impossible.

In truth even my most ardent doubters appear eerily silent. Seemingly gone are the days when incredulity reigned supreme. Every inch fought for, with tooth and nail; now no more the case.

It is within this perversely inverted scene I find myself anticipating the next chapter. Knowing with certainty my aesthetic zenith still to be distant. This being a sign of hope. Many roads to explore, and self evidently more wonderful errors to make.

A Day Distracted

How fitful I have become of late...

As though a spectre unperceived, but ill hearted, gnaws at my being. The straightforward traverse of the day intermittently disrupted by the potholes of distraction.

Thrown off course so readily as to prevent the accomplishments set out by oneself. Minuscule advances, overshadowed by the force of a fluctuating focus, perpetually driving concentration further askew.

This fragmentary recourse seemed unwilling to wane, or even momentarily release its grip on purposefulness. So, floating between various states of un-beneficial uselessness; My futile attempts to steer towards aspiration, are undermined with breath taking speed.

The Progressive transformed to The Fruitless.

Nevertheless, self-flagellation will achieve naught, and will only open the door of another day to this probable menace. Instead it must be firmly bolted and sealed, so that it's reek will no longer infect, and it's reach will not touch.

Paradoxically, the city beckons; with interruptions of a varied hue. These are to be shared and embraced. Fresh must be the start, for the new day to flourish.

Restitution

Volte-Face

A sea change of sorts has taken hold...

To make haste in clearing out the detritus of self imposed frugality, whilst debunking an assumed impervious nature. Spurred into action by a dire, unforeseeable, but nevertheless inevitable chain of events.

Health it seems, can be a woeful adversary to challenge. All who pay no heed, do so by gambling their very longevity against the force of his will.

However sudden, this re-routing of priority was not as wrenching as one may have rightly feared. Surely now an expected meteoric rise in expenditure lay in wait, to usurp the new found vitality for which I had ascribed.

Yet no reproach; instead Prudence was at hand to lend her subtle wit. A deft guide through this tangled thicket. Back to basics; sustenance through simplicity, additives now a sin.

Almost as in parallel; I attest that my creative self rekindled it's incandescent fire anew. The coals burn hot with a molten torrent of possibility that familiarity implies upon me.

Could it be so that but for this change in nutriment I am thus emboldened?

Truly it matters not, for the outcome is equal. For I tread not alone, but in the company of those like minded souls near and dear to me.

Penta

Tempus Futurum

The breaking of an unblemished year brings turmoil, prophecy and prudence...

Allowing endurance of a long lived friendship, while invoking abject change elsewhere. Health must once more lead investment, as to better guild for what is to come.

External forces offer up forecasts immutably dyed with stains of their own self-doubt; Albeit in actuality beneath the most delicate of veils, so as to barely conceal the intended claim on my future. Supposedly to goad wilful concession or admission of folly. 

Thus fleeting prognosis doth reveal that which was long suspected. A cavernous void between their understanding and the rock on which I preside.

Let no such views be thrust so imprudently. For It seems the fates prevail not the virtue of outward compliance upon my plan. Forever misconstrued as a morass of false impression, to bear no fruit. A complete prostitution of the talents so fortunately bestowed. Proudly bearing this prominence akin to a disobedient nature.

Roused by misapprehension, I find it not difficult to engage the more venturesome aspects for which I seek to be recognised. To descry opportunity and reach further still into the unknown.

 This outcome being far less terrible to me than all which hath been presented.

Breathless

The resurgence of an old adversary is lamentable indeed... 

His restrictive grasp all the more merciless than remembered. Thus culminating in days of squandered opportunity; further underpinned by the mercenary clutch of glacial conditions gathering day by day.

A wilted hiss, rather than the customary voice. Defiant reason; whereabouts unknown. A briefly benumbed period of feebleness, incurred by the return of that wheezing rasp. Mingled frustration bore from a hitherto unfamiliar lack of will. 

Nonetheless, the fleeting temperament of this impotence was welcome, proving incentive to regain an even keel. Yet, to spite the impetus to sleep; refused compliance was more the case. Established rhythms elbowed from sync by the erratic moods of infirmity.

So insomnia; discerning her chance, pushes the advantage. Forcing her will upon my waking mind. The last vestige of resilience.