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Seven Types of Thunder
By
Shotgun011

Seven Types of Thunder

Seems I was born in a thunderstorm and been where the demons go, having found solace in that one inch no one can touch deep in my mind where the winds never blow. I am still breathing, and have survived all that has been thrown at me in this Bittersweet Symphony, or Vale of Tears known as life after having made every mistake imaginable. No one should kid themselves for we are all on our own in this life and though I might have survived, does it mean that I am worthy of surviving? There is one great truth, and it is elusive, one of the small truths is that life can be a curse, and fear will kill you with anger keeping you alive. Making me wonder if God in his infinite mercy and wisdom will ever forgive me for all the things I have done? For my sins seem to be so practiced they seem at times to take on a life of their own, and are like gravity holding me down.

Sometimes I wonder if and why I seem to worth saving when many would rather see me dead and buried or burning in Hell. I sometimes wonder when I wake up if I am going to hurt someone and I know that all of this has happened before and sure as hell it will all happen again in no specified time frame. I know fear well, and basically don’t try to think about it or give it the luxury to control me, and I know I have on many an occasion tried to win with a losing hand while the Devil sat across from me smiling as he sat there dealing from the bottom of the deck, as I sat there with a bleak stare and wild look in my eyes. These are the times when I can’t breathe easy while the Devil continues to point out and scowl at those deep-seated insecurities, making me feel as though I am totally unworthy of anything.

Still we are all flawed in some way or another, and I am not what they seem to think I am and I occasionally have thoughts that torture my dreams and cripple my soul giving rise to the thought that I should just die and let everything move on and go on without me, and I know I will not be remembered and sometimes that scares me. I know damned well I didn’t pick this life, and it seems I don’t speak right though I know what I am saying as my voice seems to never be heard making me wonder why I even bother at times. The Tibetan Book of the Dead it talks of being reborn after traveling through the void, and some of those demons from the past seem to have found a way to once again torment me as they once did. I should let it all go and be the last, and then maybe I will just be the one who fell or just be the one who is left behind, and then again, I might just be stuck with the things I have never been proud of and just head on my way down the line into the turning of twilight.

At this point in my life, I seriously wonder if I can actually do anything right, after having done just about everything wrong, and still, I wonder why some still put their trust in me as I continue on down this hard road I have been following for so long? Still, I have been searching for the light through all of the shadows I have been traveling through and stumbling through in most cases with things I’d like to have forgotten. Wondering too if I take your hand if I will just lead you down the road of ruin? Tryin’ to do the best I can but I am always losing ground, and still, I am looking for that essential truth and trying not to make any promises hoping for redemption and a chance to live honestly, as I reach inside and visit those cathedrals in my mind.

Maybe it’s time I went down South where the sunburned earth sits under those hard-blue skies where the sun’s dark light beats on all, and maybe that’s where I should begin again for the desert is supposed to teach the faithful. Seeing red when I close my tired eyes, and the demons are trying to get even with hell on my trail out here in the desert where it meets the sky. While illusion spins and casts its net when I seem to think I am free, as liberty softly laughs and slowly pirouettes. After being told by some that I shouldn’t waste words as they are all lies which have made the decision to keep on and ain’t talking to be an easy decision along with keeping my silence which I silently resigned myself to. As I let them see my empty silhouette and maybe I will tell them what the smile on face has always meant one day.

Picking up the pieces of some of my yesterdays, and being flexible enough to reinvent myself to be able to show them all another me. Still, I yearn to define my life out here on those backroads, old highways, and railroad tracks as the Tao directs.

Copyright: Timberwolf International LTD. May 2017 – 33

 

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