Rising. Higher.
Reaching Further.
Attaining.
Losing.
Falling.
Dying.
Again.
Diving into the depths of my being I see sadness. The somber yet depressing sounds of my past ring in my ears like the cries of dying brain cells. Ringing. Ringing. Constantly ringing. The vibrations from the sound reverberates through the cob webs that have grown within my sentiment breaking their unbreakable hold. As they fall softly, but ever so quickly, the strength I have falls with them. "Stay", it begs. "Stay on the walls, for then I know that what is done is done. Don't allow yourself to be pulled away." But to no avail. The cob webs, beautifully made by the keepers of my depths, plummet to the bottom of my crevasse. Will the craftsmen of these unique works of art try again? Will their shelter be undisturbed for a while giving them time to work? Or will there be a jostling of sorts elevating my depths to the sun where it can attempt again? Will Hades rise from his river of death to over take his brother, ruling the land claimed by him?
Walls cave in! Walls break! The spirit of my past is making its way to you now. Drop heavy rocks on its head breaking open its skull. When the source of its strength and consciousness stares at you, pour hot lava onto it. Enkindle a flame so great not even Hades himself can take refuge in it. Sear its finger tips so that it cannot grip the rigid corners of my defenses. And when it slows down, combust! Spit fiery embers into the air and quake until it falls. Watch it and make sure it is dead. For if it regains the strength to over come you, it will be your undoing.
