Thoughts crash against the skull, like waves against the shore, against the tall cliffs which hold nothing but the misery of those of the past. A voice rings out within the fog, are the ideas in my mind calling out to me? Why should I listen though? I'm safe here, lost within the haze of emotions and feelings, I'm not important here, I'm not needed.
A bang at the door, it's just noise, it's all just noise. The door opens as it always has, the path etched into the stone ground like a story within history. These shackles feel kind of comforting, they almost bring me some ease, I feel safe within them, they feel as familiar as the beard I grow.
The noise, everything is a blur, fuzzy and emotionless. Grey and dull, almost as if intended, the further you walk, the less you feel like you belong, isn't this home? The chatter in my skull begins anew, what stories does it have to tell now?
The wind in my hair, it flows so gently, its calm and blissful. Grass at my feet, against my skin they feel full of life. I walk through the field of life, it holds all manner of beauty, from flowers of colours one must see to truly imagine, the beautiful smell of... blood, rusted metal, I'm here again.
We arrive at the gates almost on beat, as we always have, as we always will. The shackles are undone and thrown in the box, it reeks, it always reeks. The gates open and my eyes are blinded by the rays from God, the light, the sun, the beautiful sound of birds as they sing to one another. My heart beats, the instrument to the song of the wild, I'm one with it, I belong to it. A distant sound summons, it calls to me, why are they so loud? The roar grows, where are they? The pace of the beat, my heart races, am I afraid? "Don't linger, the audience awaits".
The sand at my feet, rough and dead, carrying the blood of old, stories cut short, ended within a moment. The noise, the roar of the audience, it's a blur and it overwhelms. My hands shake with anticipation, will this be my time? Freedom calls to me, I call to it, it's like water to a thirst, like food to hunger, I'm thirsty and I'm hungry... free me.