THE ILLUSIONIST

Through reams of time, stories written.
Worlds collide.

Fortress of steel walls built.
This is mine.

Sovereign Free, what of me?
Tightly bound,
No freedom found,
Words confound.

A child cries inside thick walls.
Muffled, muted murmurs now.
Desperation gives to death,
Innocence locked and kept.

Bundled and ill equipped,
Ascends the icy rift.
Dare not he lose his grip,
Folly! he screams as he falls.

Laid to rest in barren blizzards fields,
Remains haunted upon this day,
No forgiveness or resolve.
Lest he is to forever dissolve.

Into endless nothingness.

Hardened is the heart that beats,
Unknown that it has become the beast,
Cries out to a world,
Look! what the I hath endured.

Lest the man forget
That he himself this day beget,
In reliving of the event
That has so rent his soul bereft.

Loving Truly wraps her arms,
Gently whispers of lost charms.
Days of warmth and laughter ring,
Remembrance of lighter things.

Eternally She holds this flame.
Small against the great dark plane,
Penetration into space,
The voyager to parts unknown.

Great Mystery is the key.
She appears to laugh mercilessly.

Knowing not from where he came,
Still he doth choose this game.
Labyrinth and maze is thus made.
Twists and turns but lead to dead ends.

Deeper still will come home,
To arrive one day to central point.

Imploding in upon the self,
A stellar radiant one
Of carbon born.
Diamond light, polished stone.

The Journey has thus begun.