12.15.2007

- in the name of Allah -


echoes of tomorrow



how splendid is poetry, when ears hear, mere words transform from the mediocre into sublimity. if I was never called out from the cave of Never Land, would sounds still make their way down the untrod path?

I have no more ghosts, no more skeletons of haunting, no more fables long since past to bother a present of solid beginnings. as well as these, I carry no regrets from the land of youthful innocence, no care for spears of sanity that once labeled my head a pear for the reaping. parables and soliloquies once parried me from the earth to the seas, from the skies to everything underneath, but now all the extraordinary and paranormal is compressed to 1/100th the meaning of the abyssal. purpose is evident, if not self explanatory, I have only to reach outside of me to find a leading lesson clothed in flesh of friend or foe. though few reside near the philosophical, it's refreshing to head down the road rarely traveled to awaken a mind accosted by the inanity of mindless dribble. who knows what cards lay in the hand of tomorrow, I only know that I will fight the seemingly inevitable with everything whether it be happiness or sorrow.