like how the streetlight shines ever on throughout the blackest of night, unwavering and unceasing to the point of relentless recklessness, a steadfast and yet futile attempt to make an difference, for the streetlamp is but one of many other similar ones lining the road, a nail in the automation, a drone in the swarm, blighted by being forever anonymous and homogeneous, ever blended in perfect assimilation with the sublime
like how light and darkness can never exist side by side in the same place, for both are but the anti-thesis of the other, the matter and anti-matter, the extreme ends of a spectrum, forever doomed with the blighted curse of distance
like how the moon all but remembers the warmth and light of the sun, forever living in the shadow of the sun, a sorry excuse of the radiance, a terrible match and never a suitable companion to the all-shining sun, it being the very archetype of solitary incompetence
like how Daedalus watched as Icarus fell after his wings fell apart, knowing it was he who gave his son wings and sent him to his flight and eventual fall
like Icarus himself, who yearned for the beauty of the sun, and yet in his reaching out the love of his life destroyed him forever
like a mannequin, ever behind the glass pane, the mockingly transparent and yet cruelly solid barrier, watching the world of color and emotion rolling ever past before his very eyes, while the longing, regret and self-loathing are but pangs gripping the immaterial but painfully existent heart, and yet his plastic eyes were not made for shutting and shunning, and he could all but continue to stare at the spectacle with his unblinking eyes, the beholder of a world he can never have, forever keeping his silence while it is all seething chaos and turmultous agony within him
| Thoughts Became Words At 8:28 PM |
