Song of My Soul

There’s this feeling within me, an all consuming emptyness, an emptyness that seems to have an unmeasurable weight attached to it. It’s as though I’ve become the beast of burden who’s carrying a load that is infinitely multiplied with every inevitable stumble along a narrow, eroded lose gravel path. The view of grand, statuesque, snow covered mountians that seem to be nothing more than an extensions of their own flawless reflection created by the exquisite, crystal clear lake they border, serve as a treacherously beautiful distraction. On the breeze dances a sound, a song, one I seem to know perfectly, even though it has never before been played. Every beat of the song in precise timing with the pulse of my heart. It’s angelic and seductive, indescribably innocent yet extraordinarily perverse, as if it were the song of my confused soul. The fog which seems to consume the stagnant air around me dissipates when it’s played, a song that is my light, a light so bright it could illuminate my darkest night. So completely entrancing I’m blind to the transparent premeditated serendipity of it all. The majestic mountians, and sublime crystal lake are nothing more than smoke and mirrors, enticing me to, even just for a moment, relinquish my vital full attention from negotiating every step I take along a more treacherous, narrower version of Hells Gates Trail. The blatant premeditated serendipitous moment has been victorious in its task, as I give in and seek solace in glory that is the mirage. Only to be torn away from the euphoric mirage and reacquainted with the daunting face of reality as the lose gravel gives way beneath my feet, and I am brought to my knees in unbearable emotional and physical pain. My heart seems to skip a beat or even two, the silence is deafening, the song of my soul ceases to play, the darkness blinds me, my light has conceeded to the darkest night. I am once again alone, exhausted, my emotional energy depleted, my soul, every fiber of my being beaten down, believing I am too weak to continue, I curse the song, but before the last word is able to escape my lips, once again I feel it, the pulse of my heart, I hear it, the song of my soul, I see it, the light of my night, but this time, I remember it, the euphoric mirage of my heaven, that leads me to suffer in pain in my hell. You will always be, the Pulse of my Heart, the Song of my Soul, and the Light of my night, but you’re also the inevitable pain of my euphoria, which I have to remind myself is merely a mirage.