[B l a c k S w a n]
"My wandering feet
held in a rut yeah, yeah,
yeah. Every noise and
sound's been cut yeah,
yeah, yeah. Killin' me
now, killin' me now,
Do you hear me?
Yeah. Sinking slowly like
in a trance, nah, nah, nah.
Struggle but it's all ocean
floor nah, nah. Every
moment becomes eternity,
yeah, yeah, yeah
Film it now, film it now
Do you hear me?"
Φ
They say good things take time. It will always weave and wander through out existence itself.
How long will I wait? How long must I wander? How much more must I sink slowly like in a trance?
For a moment, she just wanted time to stop, so that she could gather her thoughts and gather her feelings. It felt as though her heart longer beats, no longer races.
Emptiness. She wondered what does it really feel like?
That would be my first death I have been afraid of. Living lifelessly... living impassionately was what she had become to fear. The fear of losing touch with her feelings, the fear of losing her dreams and the fear of emptiness are soon becoming a reality.
Inaudible whispers erupted before sprouting into dark thoughts. The shadow continued to linger not around her, but within her. Lips sealed will all the unsaid words and emotions within. With her mind puzzled, the haze echoes in confusion and returns back without an answer.
The countless thoughts and the countless worries were too overwhelming for her. Her body couldn't handle the dosage of reality.
She was caught in between a reality and a dream, and yet was also struggling and stuck in between the cries of her shadow and the dwindling light and hope.
The looming sense of reality was demanding her to make a choice- breathe or dream?
Breathe– Choose to live through the unfortunate events continuously? Through constant pain and struggles? Live through life lifelessly?
Dream– Choose to be in peace in a sleep like trance? Be tucked in and kissed by death itself? To be a part of a reality that she could build herself?
She was a glass filled with memories that has turned bitter, yet she continues to drink it.
Why so?
Because if mysterious footprints are found, we follow. Perhaps in the midst of her shadows she may grow out to be a beautiful black swan... to blossom into a pretty lie.
